


You'll Never Live This Down

by orphan_account



Series: Endless Nighttime Sky [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Paramore
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Blood Drinking, M/M, Vampire Gerard Way, Vampire Hunters, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 20:30:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 24,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4639143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So what are we, some kind of anti-vampire gang now?" Joe asks.</p><p>"Yeah, an anti-vampire gang with several members that happen to be vampires, cause that makes perfect sense," Frank replies.</p><p>"Well, obviously."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This took me longer than I wanted to finally get uploaded but it's here!! The updates won't be as often as before because I've started at college now and I'm super busy, but I'll try to keep them as often as I can.
> 
> Just in case anyone hasn't read part one, you should probably read that first otherwise this won't really make much sense.

"I'm gonna kill him, I swear to god, let me kill him," Pete all but yells, trying to resist against Frank and Andy holding back each of his arms.

"Pete, come on," Frank says, trying to drag Pete further backwards, towards the door.

" _Years_ , I've wanted to kill him for _years_ , and now- he- Patrick-"

"Let's just get _back_ to Patrick and make sure he's okay," Andy says, and Pete suddenly gives up, dropping his arms and letting the others pull him back with new strength thanks to his lack of resistance, because even with two of them and Andy doing as much CrossFit as he does, trying to hold a vampire back is hard.

"Is someone with him?" Pete asks.

"I think Joe's in there."

Pete nods, turning to follow them back out.

"Are they-" Frank starts, looking back and trying to see where Gerard and Mikey are still inside.

"They'll be fine, " Andy says, leading him back out to follow Pete.

"Is he okay?" Pete asks the second the three of them are back in the van, kneeling down next to the seat Patrick's lying across, unconscious.

"I don't think he got the chance to turn him properly," Joe says, "it's just blood loss, I hope."

Pete hums something in response, trying not to feel that horrible all-consuming anger again when he sees the two red marks on Patrick's neck.

"He'll be fine," Andy says.

"If he isn't I'm gonna kill that guy. I'm gonna kill him anyway."

"We need to find more hunters next time, no way can we take a group this big on alone again. Then you can kill him," Joe suggests.

"I might know some people," Andy tells them.

"You always know some people," Joe says. "Frank?"

"Hmm?" Frank asks, turning to look at the others, instead of out the window and into the distance like he had been before.

"Are you okay?"

Frank nods, not even looking convinced himself, "Gerard..."

"Oh, yeah, seeing your boyfriend kill several people isn't always the best."

"I didn't...I've never seen him like that."

"These are the people that turned Mikey and attacked you, remember. He'd kill all of them if he could."

"I know, but...it's just..." Frank sighs, "I don't know." He can't get the image out of his head; most of the time they were in there he could ignore whatever he saw Gerard doing out of the corner of his eye, but then when a vampire had cornered Frank, he saw Gerard kill them up-close, without even blinking.

"Do you think they're okay?" Frank asks, worrying again, "Should we go back?"

"I don't know about Mikey, but Gerard can handle himself," Andy says, "he's tougher than he looks."

"Wouldn't they have followed us by now, though?"

"They'll be fine," Joe reassures him, but Frank still watches out the window intently, waiting for Gerard and Mikey to appear, afraid of seeing another vampire instead.

Frank watched for what felt like forever, and he wasn't sure if he was actually seeing something when he first saw movement because he'd been watching for so long, but soon there was a definite shape, a dark silhouette, coming closer quickly, and Frank recognised it as Mikey, too tall and skinny to be Gerard, and then feels a wave of relief flood over him when he notices Gerard behind him.

They both jump into the back of the van, shutting the door behind them and Mikey climbing into the front just as fast, getting the car into gear and starting to pull away before either of them even said anything.

"Are you okay?" Gerard asks Frank, one hand resting against his chin, looking over him for other any injuries.

Frank nods, "I was worried about you," he says, shifting to lean against Gerard's side, his head resting on Gerard's shoulder.

"I'm okay," Gerard says, "Are you sure you're okay? It's not-" he starts, his hand, now resting on his shoulder, gently brushing over the marks on Frank's neck and he tries not to flinch away.

"Does it look bad?"

"Dude," Joe says, "I'm pretty sure there's little purple fingerprints."

Frank sighs, still feeling the ache in his throat. As much as Frank hated them, he knew before they even left that he probably wouldn't be able to kill any of them; he'd never even interacted with a vampire before he met Gerard, he wasn't used to this kind of life like the rest of them. Which is why it was probably doomed to end disastrously when he ended up face-to-face with a vampire, one he'd never even seen before, and everyone else around him was occupied, to say the least.

Frank had had the stake in his hand - too scared to really put it away - but he still couldn't bring himself to put it through the vampire's heart, which is how he ended up staking them through the other side of their chest instead, simultaneously hoping it would and wouldn't still kill them. They stumbled backwards a bit, at least, but then just coming back looking pissed off enough to terrify Frank, and it didn't help that he was practically defenceless, too, thanks to his stake still being embedded in the vampire's chest. Unless he wants to attempt to find the strength or courage to attempt to decapitate him with one of the other weapons he'd been given, which he doubted he could do even if he wanted to.

The vampire pushed Frank against the nearest wall, and Frank couldn't help but make the comparison in his head to the several times Gerard had done this, except this time Frank was less turned on, more terrified, and there was more murder, less sex in the vampire's eyes.

When the vampire wrapped their slender, cold hands around Frank's throat, that's really when he started to regret ever coming along. Even more so when their hands tightened, everything seeming to go in slow motion and it took forever for Frank to just get in one breath, his vision blurring at the edges and his ears starting to ring when he sees Gerard come up behind the vampire, pulling them back by their shoulder and driving his stake straight through their back and their heart, letting their body drop to the side without even looking at them.

"Frank?" Gerard asked, kneeling down in front of him, when Frank didn't even realise he'd fallen to the floor. "Frank?" Gerard repeats, sounding a hundred miles away, his voice muffled like it was underwater, the ringing in Frank's ears starting to fade but everything else still sounding distant and quiet.

"Are you okay? Frank?" Gerard said, sounding more urgent this time, his voice progressively getting louder as Frank's hearing comes back.

Frank nodded, wincing at the pain in his head with each movement.

"We should go, you need to- you can't stay, you're not okay."

"Gee," Frank said, finally feeling like Gerard's actually right in front of him, his voice a hoarse croak, "it's okay, I'm fine," he said, grabbing Gerard's hand and pulling himself up, trying not to sway too much where he's standing.

"No, you're-" Gerard started, getting cut off by Pete yelling something at someone, and then they both saw Joe carrying an unconscious Patrick, and they couldn't move fast enough back to find the others.

 

"Great," Frank says, "everyone'll know I was almost choked to death."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Gerard asks again, and Frank can feel him looking down at him with a frown.

"I'm fine, don't worry," Frank says, looking down at where he's interlaced Gerard's fingers with his, spotting a dark stain of blood on the bottom of Gerard's shirt. "Are you hurt?" he asks, sitting forward and looking closer at the stain.

"Oh, no, that was...that was one of the other vampires."

"Oh," Frank says, sitting back, feeling faint and dizzy, and Gerard's hand is too cold around his, his arm to heavy on his shoulders, and Frank can't really tell if he feels like he's going to throw up or not, but he really hopes he doesn't because he doesn't want to have to explain to everyone, Gerard especially, how suddenly he no longer feels comfortable in his boyfriend's arms.

He doesn't know what to do; he wants to get even closer to Gerard, have him just hug him close and help him calm down, because he still feels too shaken after fucking almost choking, and he'd been worrying too much about Gerard leading up to this, he just wants to reassure himself he's still _here_ and  _alive_ after its finished. But, at the same time, he doesn't, and would rather move to the other side of the van, away from him.

He knew Gerard had killed vampires, had killed people, before, and he was okay with that, he understood that Gerard had been going through a lot. And he knows that all the vampires he killed tonight are better off dead, and that he was more than willing to kill a bunch of them himself before, he just didn't actually have the courage to go through with anything more than staking one through the wrong side of their chest, when Gerard did. Frank probably would have the courage if he'd been through all the stuff Gerard had; he understands it.

He wouldn't even be alive right now if Gerard hadn't killed that vampire, but he still can't stop thinking about the hands holding him - Gerard's hands, the man he loves to fucking _death's_ hands - have killed all those people, and it's like the realisation of what Gerard's done in the past hits Frank then, too. He's killed innocent people; people that did nothing wrong but agreeing to go home with the wrong stranger. He knew Gerard regretted every second of what he'd done, and how badly he thought of himself because of it, and if he knew Frank was thinking about him like this he'd just feel even worse about it, but he can't help it, as much as he hates it. He can't help thinking that it could've been _him_ , if he wasn't recognisable to Gerard, he could've just as easily killed him instead.

"Are you okay?" Gerard asks, _again_ , probably feeling Frank tense up under his touch.

"Yeah, yeah," Frank says, "I'm fine," he adds, trying and failing to tear his eyes away from the blood stain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pretty much listened to Melanie Martinez on repeat while writing this so honestly it's a miracle nothing creepy happened. (also everyone should listen to her she's the best)

Frank looks over himself in the mirror, trying not to wince at the dark bruises wrapping round his neck, still aching slightly, but nowhere near as bad as the throbbing in his head that's started since he woke up.

He doesn’t see Gerard coming up behind him, even though he’s standing in front of a fucking mirror – which he can actually see Gerard in, if he had been paying attention – so it surprises him enough when he feels his arms wrap around him from behind, and he tenses up, hoping Gerard doesn’t notice, dropping his hand away from the marks on his neck.

“Are you okay?” Gerard asks, dropping his arms too, definitely noticing Frank’s reaction.

“Yeah, yeah, just…yeah,” Frank says, avoiding Gerard’s eyes, stepping back while attempting to avoid walking into him, “we should go see if Pete’s okay, and if Patrick’s woken up yet.” They’d stayed at Pete’s apartment when they’d gotten back the night before, neither of them wanting to drive home, or to leave Pete alone with Patrick to freak out if he’s badly hurt.

“Yeah, okay,” Gerard says, and Frank can tell he’s noticed the way he’s acting around him; he hadn’t really been the most subtle when they’d finally gone to bed last night, and tensed up completely when Gerard had tried to stay close to him, only being able to relax properly when Gerard had given up. He wishes he could say something to reassure Gerard that he doesn’t hate him or anything, but he doesn’t know what he could say. He can’t tell him the truth - that would just make it worse – he can’t tell him what he’s actually thinking every time he tenses up when Gerard touches him. He definitely can’t tell him that he had another nightmare again – the first in a while – last night, and that this one was fundamentally different than the others had been, in a way that he could never tell Gerard.

“Is Patrick okay?” Gerard asks when they go back out to the living room, where Pete’s sitting.

“I don’t know,” Pete says, and he looks so different that it makes Frank really realise how much he cares about Patrick; his eyes look dark and tired, his eyebrows pulled together making him look even more concerned than he would normally, “he still hasn’t woken up.”

“He’ll be okay, though,” Frank says, “I’m sure.”

“I don’t know,” Pete says again, “he looks worse than he did last night. If he wasn’t breathing it’d be like he’s dead.”

“Frank looked kinda dead when…when I took too much blood.”

“And I wanted to sleep for like, 10 years. He’ll be okay again when he wakes up.”

“ _If_ he wakes up.”

“He’ll wake up; stop worrying,” Gerard says.

“You’re one to talk,” Pete says, managing a small smile, “you’re the king of worrying.”

“Tell me about it,” Frank says, resisting rolling his eyes.

They all drift back into silence again, and it doesn’t take long before Pete glances back at his bedroom door, and Gerard looks like he’s about to tell him to stop worrying, but then changes his mind. “Let’s make some coffee,” he suggests, walking out towards the kitchen, grabbing Frank’s hand and pulling him along too on his way out.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again when they’re in the kitchen, not even going near the coffee machine, so Frank takes the liberty instead, starting to make the coffee while he thinks about Gerard’s question.

For a moment he considers telling him everything that he can’t get out of his head; explain why he’s being so weird around him, and about the nightmare he’d had last night, but this really isn’t the best time, at all, with Pete in the other room expecting coffee and worrying about Patrick, and the possibility of Patrick waking up, and not even being alone in their own apartment. “Pete’s right,” Frank says instead, trying to push away all thoughts of what happened the other night, “you worry too much.”

“I know, it’s just…I don’t know.”

“What?”

“You’ve just been acting weird.”

“Yeah, sorry, I just…it’s nothing, really. Sorry,” Frank says, pouring out the coffee and picking up the mugs to carry into the lounge when Gerard grabs his arm, stopping him.

“Frank,” he says, his eyebrows drawn together in worry, almost as bad as Pete.

“It’s nothing, really,” Frank says, and Gerard sighs, dropping his arm. Frank doesn’t know whether he actually believes Frank, or he’s just gotten the idea that now isn’t really the time to talk about it, but Frank’s just glad he can avoid the problem for a little bit longer, even if it does mean Gerard’s just gonna ask him again the second they get home.

 

Pete practically drains his coffee as soon as Frank hands it to him, and then just looks even more jittery after, sitting nervously on the edge of his seat while Gerard and Frank sip slowly – like _normal_ people – at their coffees.

“Pete, you need to-” Gerard starts, but then stops himself when they hear a noise from Pete’s bedroom, and Pete probably stands up faster than humanly possible, which, yeah, that’s technically possible for him, and then disappears back into his room before either Frank or Gerard can actually say anything.

“Do you think Patrick will be a bit overwhelmed if he wakes up and Pete is all but on top of him?” Frank asks.

“He’s probably used to it by now.”

“Should we see what’s going on?”

“Give them a couple of minutes first. Is your head okay?”

“What?” Frank asks, because, yeah, his head still feels fucking shit, but he’s pretty sure he would’ve realised by now if vampires had some kind of psychic mind-reading power.

“You were complaining about it earlier.”

“Oh, right, yeah.” So no psychic powers; Frank’s just way too out of it.

“Are you definitely okay?”

“You keep asking that.”

“Cause you never actually properly answer it. Believably, at least.”

“I don’t know, I really just-”

“If you need to go see a doctor, we-”

“It wasn’t _that_ bad.”

“You passed out.”

“Barely.”

Gerard sighs, “You’re way too used to being sick or injured in some way, shape or form.”

Frank shrugs, “Trust me, it happens a lot. You should’ve seen me as a kid, my parents hardly even let me outside if it was vaguely cold because they’d be afraid I’d get sick.”

“If I saw you as a kid, that’d be kinda creepy.”

Frank stops, thinking about it for a second, “Okay, yeah, kinda creepy.”

 

When Frank walks past Pete’s room later, he hears muffled voices, and he knows it’s definitely not Gerard, because he just left the room with him, and he’s sure no one else has come into the apartment. He moves closer to the door, ignoring the little voice in his head that sounds vaguely like his hypocritical mother telling him it’s wrong to snoop and eavesdrop on other people’s conversations, and tries to make out who’s talking. It’s definitely Pete and Patrick, and Frank feels a wave of relief wash over him, because even though he doesn’t know Patrick that well, it’s hard not to care about someone like him once you start to get to know them, but he can’t make out anything they’re saying. Patrick doesn’t sound happy, he can tell that much, and it sounds vaguely like Pete’s comforting him, but he doesn’t have fucking superhuman vampire-senses, so can’t hear anything properly through the thick wood of the door.

Except, then the door’s opening, and Frank flies backwards faster than he thought he could move, trying to act like he was just walking past and wasn’t pressing his ear against the door, and almost falling over in the process.

“Is Patrick awake?” he asks when Pete steps out, not opening the door wide enough for Frank to see in and closing it behind him quickly.

“Yeah, he, uh- he’s just still feeling pretty shitty, so he just wants to, like, uh, recover, and sleep and stuff, right now.”

“Okay…”

“I’m just gonna get, uh, water. For Patrick,” Pete says, disappearing quickly back down the hall again. Frank doesn’t say anything, just retreats back to the living room to Gerard.

“Have you talked to Pete?” Frank asks him, sitting back down again, not being able to help feeling guilty about how far away he chooses to sit.

“Uh, not yet, he’s been in his room since whatever happened, why?”

“He said Patrick’s awake, but I don’t know, he’s acting really weird.”

“Maybe he’s just annoyed that Patrick got hurt.”

“Yeah, probably, I don’t know.”

Gerard shrugs in response, waiting through a couple of minutes of silence before he asks, “Should we go back home tonight?”

“Uh,” Frank says, thinking about what the hell he can actually say without an outright ‘no’; it’s far easier to avoid his current problems when he’s not alone in their own apartment with Gerard, “do you want to? Will Pete be okay?”

“I think he’s fine now, maybe he and Patrick just need to be left alone until he stops acting weird.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Do you want to stay an extra night?” Gerard asks, noticing Frank’s hesitancy, “We can if you want.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Being home’ll be nice,” Frank says, and it’s not a lie; he’s just worried that once they’re home and alone then Gerard will try to ask him what’s wrong, because he’s definitely noticed that Pete isn’t the only one acting weirdly.

“Frank…if-”

“Seriously, I want to, stop worrying.”

“Okay,” Gerard agrees, and Frank can tell he’s hesitant, and wants to say more, but just leaves it, not trying to push any further, and that just makes Frank worry even more that he’s going to start questioning him again the second they get home.

“Please stop worrying about me,” Frank says, noticing that he’s still frowning.

“I can’t help it,” Gerard says, frowning still, “you’re being weird.”

“Yeah, I know, I’m sorry, there’s just lots of stuff I can’t stop thinking about and I just need to…whatever.”

“If you need to talk, I-”

“I know, I just…not this, not right now, at least.”

“Okay,” Gerard says, still looking like he wants to ask more, but leaves it again, trying not to sigh when Frank turns away and switches on the TV, trying to distract the both of them, successfully ending the conversation.


	3. Chapter 3

Frank feels on edge ever since he and Gerard got back to their apartment, worrying pointlessly about whether or not Gerard would say anything, but he just acted as if nothing was wrong, joking with Frank about the crappy late-night TV they tried to watch, but giving him more space than he would usually, so Frank can't pretend to himself that Gerard hasn't noticed how weird he's been acting. Except, when they finally decided to give up on the TV and go to bed, Gerard didn’t think about giving Frank the extra space he had been before, wrapping his arms round Frank’s waist like he would most nights, except tonight Frank flinches away again, like he had the night before too, and he hates himself for doing it; he doesn’t want to fucking flinch away or tense up under Gerard’s every touch, but he just can’t get any of this out of his head.

Gerard sighs, shifting back again and moving into a sitting position instead, “Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” Frank asks, rolling over onto his back so he can look at Gerard.

“I don't know. You’re acting weird around me and you won’t tell me why.”

“It’s not you, I-”

“If it’s not me then why don’t you want to even be near me?”

“I _do_ want to be near you, I just don’t-”

“Frank, please don’t make up some bullshit excuse that you think I’ll believe, because I want to stop this, or fix this, or whatever. I hate this, I hate you not wanting to talk to me and that you tense up every time I try and touch you. What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“Frank, I’m n-”

“Seriously, you didn’t do anything,” Frank says, pushing himself off the bed to sit up too, facing Gerard properly, “well, like, I don’t know.”

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Is it about the other night?”

“Kind of, I guess, like, I don’t know…yeah.”

“Did something else happen?”

“No, it wasn’t like…fuck, I don’t know; this is just stupid and I’m overreacting and it was just a stupid nightmare t-”

“You had another nightmare?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t…it doesn’t matter.”

“Frank…”

“It was just a stupid nightmare.”

“I don’t care, tell me what happened.”

Frank sighs, "Gerard, please, I don't want to..." he says, trailing off.

"Don't want to what?"

"Upset you."

"Why would it upset me?"

Frank sighs again, "It was about you, the dream. And I just...I just haven't been able to stop thinking about it since, but I don't want to-"

"What-" Gerard starts, looking even more worried now, "what happened?"

“I haven't...I haven't been able to forget that feeling; not being able to breathe and everything focused purely on their hands wrapped around my throat. I couldn’t forget that, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I saw you kill so many of them, Gerard. I couldn’t – I can’t – stop thinking about all those innocent people you’d killed, how if…if you hadn’t recognised me, I could’ve just as easily been one of those people.”

“Frank-” Gerard tries.

“The nightmare I had last night,” Frank interrupts before he can say anything, “it was because of what happened. Except, it wasn’t…it wasn’t like the normal ones. At first it felt like I was back there, back pressed against that wall feeling my lungs burning and my head swim while that vampire tried to choke the fucking life out of me. But then, it…it changed, and it was you, and it was even more terrifying than when it had been the other vampire, and I kept trying to tell you that it was me, even with your hands round my throat, but you just…it was like you didn’t hear anything I said, and you just looked straight through me, like I was a stranger.”

Gerard looks kind of stunned for a moment, processing what Frank’s said, before he finally says, “I would never-"

"I woke up," Frank interrupts again, "from the dream. But it was still  _in_ the dream, and I just thought I was awake. You were there still and you comforted me and calmed me down when I was freaking out because of the nightmare, but then it just happened all fucking over again, and you killed me like one of those...those other people. That's why I didn't tell you when I  _actually_ woke up, cause I didn't know if I was still dreaming or not and I just..."

"I'd never hurt you Frank. You know that, right?”

“I know, I know you wouldn’t even dream of hurting me, but I don’t- I don’t know, it felt so _real_ , and I just couldn’t stop thinking about it, and after seeing you kill those vampires-”

“You realised what I’ve done,” Gerard says, his voice monotone with the realisation.

“No, I mean, yes, but it’s not-”

“Frank, please don’t sugar-coat this.”

“Okay, yeah. I mean, I knew what happened and Mikey had explained what you’d been going through too, and I _understood._ But it’s like, when someone tells you something and you believe them, but you can’t actually _see_ it happening, like, I don’t know, but then when I saw you…up close, _killing_ them, it’s just- I’m sorry, I know I’m overreacting.”

“No, you’re not. I get it, Frank. If this means you don’t…if you don’t want…fuck. If you’re not comfortable…with me. Being with me, I get it.”

“No, _no_ , fucking hell,” Frank says, grabbing Gerard’s hand, kind of wrapping both of his hands around it, trying to ground himself with Gerard’s presence, and tries not to think too much about the all-too-clear but all-too-fake memories of that hand wrapped tight around his throat, and the all-too-clear and all-too-real memories of it _actually_ killing people, in front of him, instead trying to think about all the times that Gerard’s hand had held his, had brushed through his hair to comfort him after he’d had a nightmare, had held Frank’s cheek or jaw just so Gerard could _look_ at him. “I love you, so, so fucking much, and you killing a bunch of vampires isn’t going to change that.”

“You know it’s more than that.”

“So what, th-”

“Frank,” Gerard interrupts, “I expected this; I was surprised when you weren’t even a little bit concerned when I told you everything, you don’t have to try and spare my feelings, I know what I did and what I am.”

“Don’t even fucking say it.”

“I’ve killed people! Innocent fucking people, for no other reason than to just kill them because I was too fucking messed up to deal with my problems on my own. I’ve thought about it so many times already, you know. That it could’ve been you. If I hadn’t recognised you, I could’ve just as easily killed you without a second thought. Without even knowing. And I could’ve done that to someone else; I’ve killed someone’s brother, someone’s sister, someone’s best friend, someone’s girlfriend or boyfriend, the love of someone’s fucking life. I’ve… _so_ many people would’ve been affected by what I’ve done, and I can’t…”

“Gerard,” Frank says, moving closer in front of Gerard and bringing his hands up to either side of Gerard’s face, making sure he looks at him, “it’s okay,” he says, and Gerard shakes his head, burying his face in Frank’s shoulder when he wraps his arms around him.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” Gerard mumbles into Frank’s shoulder, “I looked everything up, and found out who they all were,” he adds, taking a deep breath, “I still remember all their faces and all their names.”

“Oh, Gee…”

“How can you ignore this?” Gerard asks. 

“What?”

“How can you ignore this?” he repeats, sitting back to look at Frank, the crease of a frown forming between his eyebrows, his eyes still full and sad. “What I’ve done, how can you even stand the _thought_ of touching me when you know everything?”

“I don’t care what you’ve done, I know that that’s all in the past, and sure, I’m not happy about what happened but I’ve been acting like a dick lately just because I had a stupid nightmare and saw you kill someone up close because you were trying to save my life."

“You’re acting like you’re the one that’s in the wrong.”

“Cause I am, I shouldn’t have fucking avoided you like that without even trying to talk to you, but whatever, just remember that I don’t give _a shit_ whether you’ve killed one or one hundred people, no matter how stupid I've been acting lately, as long as you’re not gonna do it again any time soon. Unless it’s one of those vampire assholes. I mean, I knew you were a three hundred year old vampire, I wasn’t exactly expecting you to be innocent."

Gerard manages a laugh, “Vampires really haven’t made a good name for themselves, have they?”

Frank shrugs, “You guys are practically designed to be the perfect predators – it was bound to happen.”

“And you’re really sure you want to be one of us?”

“Without a doubt.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been updating this anywhere near as often as I want to be able to but college is hell

Frank wakes up gasping for breath, his hands going straight to his throat, still feeling the tender bruises.

"Frank?" he hears Gerard ask, worried. "Frank, what is it?" he asks, leaning round to look at Frank, bring one hand to rest against his cheek, brushing away a tear Frank didn't even realise was there with his thumb.

Frank just shakes his head, letting Gerard pull him against his chest, burying his face in his shoulder.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No." Frank hates even thinking about his nightmares, it's already bad enough that he always manages to remember them for hours afterwards.

"It's okay," Gerard whispers, stroking the back of his hair gently, Frank still trying to get his breath back. It hadn't been Gerard this time, at least, but he'd had to _watch_ them kill Gerard instead, just like he had in dreams so many times before, watching them stake him straight through the heart, letting Frank go to him as he bled out, before dragging him away and cutting his air off all over again as he saw Gerard slip away.

"You..." Frank mumbles, balling his fists in Gerard's shirt, wanting to just cling to him and reassure himself that he's still alive.

"I'm here," Gerard says, kissing him on the top of his head, then pulling back to look at Frank, wiping away more tears.

"Why can't I just be...fucking normal, why do I have to be messed up like this, why can't I just..."

"Hey, it's okay," Gerard says, "it'll get better."

"You don't know that. Almost every _fucking_ night..."

"I know," Gerard says, pulling Frank close again and switching between soothingly stroking his back or hair.

 

Frank calms down eventually, and Gerard goes out to get coffee - because there's no point trying to get back to sleep at this point - and he's just about to take it back into the bedroom when Frank comes out, still looking tired, but protesting when Gerard offers to go back to bed.

"'m fine," Frank says, pulling his hoodie - _Gerard's_ hoodie - closer around himself.

"Are you sure? You look tired."

"Yeah, just need coffee," he says, blowing carefully into his mug.

 

"We should call Pete, right?" Gerard asks another cup of coffee later, after starting pointless conversations to distract Frank, and he has no idea what Gerard's talking about at first, because they were just talking about Gerard's excessive opinions on the Star Trek reboot, and then he changes the topic faster than Frank's tired mind can process.

"What?"

"Like, to make sure that Patrick's okay and everything, and to make sure that he's still not acting weird as hell."

"Uh, yeah, sure."

"Okay," Gerard says, pulling his phone out of his pocket, and draining the rest of his coffee in one.

"Seriously, how do you do that? It must be like taking a fucking shot you have so much coffee in there."

Gerard laughs, "Please tell me this is what puts you off being a vampire."

"No way, it's gross, but no way."

Gerard sighs, rolling his eyes, but not saying anything more, instead flicking through his phone to find Pete's number, then putting it in the middle of the table on speaker once it starts ringing.

"Gerard?" Pete says as soon as he picks up.

"Normally it's 'hello', but that works too," Gerard says, smirking when he sees Frank's smile.

"Yeah, sorry, hey, what's up?" Pete asks, and Frank and Gerard exchange a look, both recognising that Pete sounds really on edge.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's- ah, I don't know."

"Is Patrick okay?"

"Yeah, he, uh, it's complicated."

"You can uncomplicate it."

Pete sighs, "Well, uh, you know how he was bitten?"

"Yeah?" Gerard asks.

"Turns out it was worse than we thought."

"Shit, what happened?"

"Well, uh, he's not exactly...uh... _human_ , anymore."

"He's a _vampire_?" Frank says, because Gerard just looks confused and he's too impatient to wait for him to figure this out.

"Frank?"

"Yeah, sorry. Speakerphone," Frank explains.

" _Patrick got turned_?" Gerard says, finally actually processing everything.

"He's not happy about it."

"Patrick's the last person on earth that would want to be a vampire," Gerard says.

"Fucking hell. Seriously?" Frank says, still surprised.

"It took me forever to actually accept it and it took Patrick even longer, I still don't feel like this is real, and Patrick's still kind of freaking out about it."

"Is he okay?"

"Physically, I guess."

"Should we come by?"

"Not today, maybe tomorrow or something. He's still too freaked out right now."

"Okay, you should probably..."

"Yeah," Pete says.

"Make sure he's okay," Gerard adds.

"Trying to," Pete says, before saying a quick goodbye and hanging up.

" _Patrick's_ a _vampire_ ," Frank says the second the call's ended, still feeling a kind of complete and utter disbelief about it.

"I _know_ ," Gerard says, "at least the problem with him and Pete is solved, I guess. I don't know, _Patrick's a vampire_."

"It's only solved if Patrick will actually even want to associate with anyone anymore."

"Yeah," Gerard says, "I'm sure Pete will be able to get through to him."

"Yeah, probably," Frank agrees. "How come Patrick gets to get turned accidentally when he didn't even _want_ to be, but I have to wait a couple of centuries?"

"It's not _that_ bad, but I've been thinking about that, actually."

"'Thinking about it' like thinking 'oh maybe I _should_ turn Frank' every now and then, or thinking about it like actually considering it properly."

"Actually considering it properly."

"So you-"

"There's a lot of stuff you still need to know."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, just _being_ a vampire."

"Tell me then."

"It's not...I don't know, it's not easy. Especially when you first get turned?"

"What's different when you're first turned?"

"It's weird, just getting used to the change. This new hunger, thirst, whatever. Suddenly feeling all this strength and speed, and just feeling so aware of everything around you."

"How long does it take to adjust?"

"Maybe a couple of days, I can't remember that well."

"How did you handle it?"

"Not well, you helped so much no matter how weird I acted, but I guess you don't remember anymore."

"Maybe some day I will."

"Yeah..." Gerard says, "I acted really weird. I wasn't myself, at all. Pete said it was the same for him. It's like you just have moments where you lose yourself and forget that you can't just...I don't know, it's hard to explain."

"I'll have you to help me."

"Will that be enough, though?"

"Don't doubt yourself so much. You've been through it before, you'll be more helpful than I would've been."

"I guess..." Gerard says, still sounding doubtful.

"What're you worrying about?"

"It's not as easy as it seems."

"It doesn't seem easy."

"Exactly."

"What part isn't as easy as it seems?"

"Dealing with it. The thirst, it's not something you can ignore, Frank. Even now, being with you I'm like...fully aware that you're human."

"What do you mean?"

"I can hear your heart. I can feel it too if we're closer. I can fucking smell your blood too if I haven't fed in a while."

"If you turned me wouldn't it be easier for you then?"

"Yeah, but not for you. You might not be able to be around any of your friends for a while, except me and Pete and Patrick."

"Is it that bad?"

"It's pretty bad."

"I'll be fine, I can stay at home with you, I can make sure I don't have any shows or stuff booked. We can make it work."

"Frank..."

"Seriously, it'll be worth it in the end, I don't care how hard it is to start with."

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely."

Gerard sighs, "As long as you're not just saying all this because of me."

"I'm not. So do-"

"I still need time to get used to the idea, like this can't be something we just jump into, we have to prepare and, like, I don't know. It can't be something spontaneous, I don't want anything to go wrong."

"You worry too much."

"I know, but it's for a reason. I want this to be as safe as it can be, so _you_ can be safe."

"Okay, we can do it however you want, organise it down to the fucking second if that's what you need, as long as we actually _do it_. Before I'm thirty."

Gerard laughs, "Don't worry, it's not gonna take that long."

"I wouldn't doubt it if you said it would."


	5. Chapter 5

“Is this hard for you?” Frank asks, breaking the horrible silence it felt like they’d been standing in for hours – though in reality it was probably barely even minutes. Pete and Gerard had gone off talking about something or other that 'apparently' wasn’t a conversation that Frank and Patrick could be part of, so Frank had no doubt about what it was that they were talking about, and so that left him alone with Patrick, who had been keeping way too quiet and staring off into the distance for the past few minutes.

“Is what hard?” Patrick asks, finally looking up and meeting Frank’s eyes, and he’s taken off guard by it again – the _difference_. It’s not like Patrick’s eyes are suddenly black or anything; they’re the exact same colour, shape, everything as before, but there’s still _something_ different behind them, something…colder, and every time he manages to meet Patrick’s eye Frank can’t help but wonder what Gerard’s eyes looked like before he was turned. 

“Being around me. Gerard said it would be hard to be around non-vampires once you’ve been turned.”

“I’m not about to eat you or anything, don’t worry,” Patrick says, “Pete’s making sure I barely go five minutes without…you know… _drinking_ ,” he says, and Frank can see his internal wince, “so I guess that’d make it better, but then again I’m still completely aware of the fact that you’ve got warm blood pumping round your body.”

“Is that why you’re being so weirdly quiet?”

“And the fact that I’m just trying to process everything, still.”

“Is it hard? Like, to adjust to?”

“I- why are you so interested?” Patrick asks, looking suspiciously at Frank, “What’s with all the questions?”

“I asked, like, two; I’m just a curious person.”

“Please tell me you’re not thinking of doing what I think you are.”

“Well, that all depends on what you think that I’m thinking of doing.”

Patrick sighs, “You want Gerard to turn you, don’t you?”

“I-” Frank starts, trying to think of some excuse, because he can already tell from the look Patrick’s giving him that he’s gonna try and convince him out of it, “yeah,” he finishes, giving up – it was no use trying to lie to Patrick anyway.

“Is that what he and Pete are talking about now?”

“I think so. Probably.”

“Has Gerard actually agreed to do it or did he just say maybe?”

“Kind of both, I guess? He wanted me to understand what I was getting into more, but, I mean, is it really that bad?”

“It’s shit. It’s- I don’t know how to describe it. I don’t remember half the past couple of days, I just keep kind of…fading away, and then I’ll wake up and Pete’ll tell me I was saying things or acting weirdly and I’m really starting to scare myself.”

“What do you mean? What kind of things?”

“I almost attacked Pete, well not almost, I _did_. I don’t know why and he says he doesn’t either, but thank god he could actually hold me off so I didn’t end up killing him.”

Frank didn’t really expect those kind of things to happen to him if Gerard actually did end up turning him, but he was starting to doubt himself a bit more, but at least it should be worth it in the end, right? “That’s…that’s not normal, though, is it? Like, that doesn’t happen to everyone.”

“Pete said things like that happened to him, he didn’t try to attack any of his friends, but similar things. Gerard was probably the same.”

“Couldn’t you guys, like, tie me down or something for a couple days after I’m turned?”

Patrick sighs again, “Okay, Frank, listen I know you want this, and I don’t want to spend forever trying to convince you out of it when you probably won’t listen anyway, but it’s a bad idea, trust me, and I know you care about Gerard but do you really want to put him and yourself at risk just to have more time with him?”

“I don’t know, I just…I can’t imagine not being able to spend forever with him, and I know that I probably will regardless, _technically_ , but I can’t stand the thought of completely forgetting him and having to restart with him all over again. I just want to be able to _stay_ , without getting old while he stays completely young and then dying and putting him through all of that again just to come back with no memory of him.”

“Yeah, I guess…I don’t know, you can’t really understand what it’s like to go through this yet, and I can’t really understand what it’s like for you. Just, think through it all, a lot, before you decide on anything, please.”

“I have, trust me, Gerard’s making sure I do.”

 

 

 

“So did you talk to Patrick?” Gerard asks later, once they’re back at their own apartment. 

“About?”

“You know…becoming a vampire and all that.”

“You planned that, didn’t you? You sneaky fucker, you made sure we had time to talk alone so he could try and convince me out of it cause you knew he would.”

“No…” Gerard says, his smile giving him away, “I actually genuinely had things I needed to talk to Pete about.”

“Oh yeah, I bet you did.”

“Seriously! I needed to ask his opinion, because I sincerely value it with him being my friend, and I just so happened to time it right so that you could talk to Patrick…”

Frank just rolls his eyes, hitting Gerard’s arm playfully.

“So…? Did Patrick have much to say on the horrors of vampirism?”

“Basically ‘don’t do it, it sucks’.”

“Very insightful.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. No, but seriously, he did make me think a bit, and did try to convince me out of it but it’s just made me decide I still wanna go through with it regardless. What was Pete’s valued opinion?”

“He thought I was being harsh on you.”

“Finally, _someone_ agrees with me.”

Gerard rolls his eyes, “He helped me see where you were coming from, and told me to basically stop being such a drama queen,” he explains, a slight smile playing across his lips.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Frank smirks, “so does this mean…”

Gerard sighs, “I hate you so much, and I feel like I’m gonna regret this.”

“That’s a yes, right? I’m gonna take it as a yes because I wasn’t gonna let you say no anyway.”

“We’d have to plan everything beforehand, you’d need to take a complete break off performing so you couldn’t risk anything, and we’d have to completely prepare everything so that it’s all _safe_.”

“So that means-”

“Yes, okay,” Gerard sighs, “it’s a yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel genuinely bad that I haven't uploaded anything in probably about half a year. also because that probably means I've lost the majority of the readers but I hope you guys are still willing to read this and hopefully I'll be able to update at least a bit more regularly (college sucks, but I've written a couple of the next chapters and have a holiday soon so that should mean more in the next couple weeks) because I love this story too much to give up on it.


	6. Chapter 6

It took a while for Gerard to actually accept that he’d agreed to doing this, much to Frank’s frustration, and then once they’d actually started organising everything, it took even longer. Gerard was insistent on stocking up on enough blood to feed just about every mosquito that had ever lived and will ever live, “just in case”, and he wanted Mikey to stay over as well once Frank had been turned, just for extra safety, as well as various other things that Frank was pretty sure Gerard was just deliberately taking forever to do, just to delay the inevitable.

“I seriously just need to do a couple more things,” Gerard says when Frank tries again to tell him that he’s just stalling.

“That’s total bullshit, and we both know it. You could turn me now and we’d be ready.”

“Now?! No way, we’d need maybe a couple more weeks, or even _months_. You know, maybe we should just hold off for a couple years, just to…I don’t know, make sure.”

“Do you actually hear yourself right now? You’re being ridiculous, there’s literally _nothing_ you need to ‘prepare’.”

“No, we’re not ready ye-”

“ _You’re_ not ready. What are you so freaked out about?”

Gerard sighs, sitting down on the edge of their bed, “I’m scared, Frank. What if something goes wrong? I’m not ready to lose you," he says, and Frank feels like he's going round in circles with Gerard.

“Nothing’s gonna go wrong, Gee. I’m staying right here.”

“It _could_ though. I could _kill_ you.”

“But you won’t.”

“That’s a lot of faith to put into someone who could barely even just drink from you without half killing you.”

“That was _one_ time, of many, and it was an accident, it’s not like you did it deliberately.”

“Exactly, so I could do it accidentally again now. I have to take _so much_ blood, Frank. What if I take _too_ much?”

“You won’t,” Frank says, sitting down next to him, “I trust you.”

“We can’t…not now.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not ready, what if I-”

“Gerard, the longer you leave it for, the more worried you’re gonna get about it and the more you’re gonna work yourself up about it.”

“But I can’t _now_ …I just, I need time Frank, I know you’ve been thinking about this for a while but I’m still getting used to the idea, I just need a bit more time.”

“A bit more time, like what, a couple more decades? Don’t tell me you haven’t already thought about this at least a couple times before I brought it up, you’ve had time to think about this – before I’d even met you, before I was even _born_.”

“I know, but-”

“But what, it’s still not enough?”

“Frank, you’d asked me almost the moment I’d been turned, you wanted to stick with me no matter what and I can’t- I can’t do that to you.”

“Oh come off it, don’t act like I have no idea what I’m getting into by spending forever with you. It’s going to happen, regardless, okay? No matter what, I’m still gonna keep coming back and you’re gonna keep finding me again, you’re not about to stop that, are you? I just don’t want to have to fucking die all the time and put you through all of that every couple of decades, and have to _forget you entirely_.”

“I know it’s hardly any different, but it just feels so much more _permanent_ this way.”

“And what, you can’t deal with having any kind of permanency with me?”

“Frank, you know that’s not what I meant. I just want a bit more time to think this over.”

“You’ve had hundreds of years. Fucking _centuries_. What’re you gonna think over that you couldn’t have already?”

“I just want to think about what I’ll be putting you through! I want to make sure we’re not taking too many risks with this!”

“Oh stop acting like you’re some kind of martyr that’s protecting people from the horrors of being a vampire! I didn’t have to come to you or be so patient with you taking forever to decide whether you’d do this or not, I could just go to Pete or Mikey or Patrick, or just about _anyone else_!”

“You don’t understand how much I’d hate myself if something happened to you! If _I_ was the one that caused it. What if you lost control? I don’t want to put you through feeling that guilty over something you had no control over!”

“If I don’t have any control over it, then don’t try and think you do, instead! You’re being ridiculous right now, Gerard, you’re taking tiny possibilities and blowing them out of proportion and using them as an excuse to cover up the fact that you’re _way_ too afraid of me being immortal with you!” Frank yells, realising what he’s saying as the words are coming out of his mouth, and hating that he actually said them – because as soon as he does he realises how probable the truth behind them is.

“That’s in no way what this is, Frank, and you know it. There’s nothing I want more in the world than to spend the rest of forever with you, but I’m _afraid_ , I don’t want to risk anything with you.”

“It’s not your risk to take, Gerard.” Frank says, much quieter compared to how he’d been yelling before, almost scaring Gerard from the lack of emotion. “This should be _my_ choice, not yours; you can’t just take control of my life because of your stupid irrational fears and overprotectiveness.”

“Frank, that’s not what-” Gerard starts as Frank turns away, towards the door.

“Don’t start, Gerard, just leave me alone,” Frank says over his shoulder, stepping out into the hall and towards the front door.

“Wait, Frank, please, stop,” Gerard says, standing up quickly and going to follow him.

“No,” Frank says, turning suddenly to face Gerard, making him almost walk into him, “ _you_ stop, Gerard, stop trying to protect me from everything like I’m some kind of _child_ , okay? Just leave me the _fuck_ alone,” Frank spits, turning back again and slamming the front door in Gerard’s face before he can follow.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I could've made this chapter longer but it works better split up and I've already rewritten it in like 3 different ways so I just decided to publish it before I could change it again.

Frank’s first thought after he’s stormed out of the apartment is to figure out where the ‘vampire part of town’ is, and his first idea is to go to the dodgy part of town, because they’ve pretty much become one and the same these days. “Never underestimate America’s ability to be prejudiced,” he mumbles to himself as he gets into his car, directing his anger towards Gerard at just about anything he can.

He drives until he sees the first bar, parking haphazardly in the front parking lot – already knowing he’s being an idiot and probably making a mistake, but ignoring it – finding the first vaguely vampire-looking guy he can and asking him – practically _begging_ him – to turn him, and he actually agrees, much to Frank’s amazement, though most of his pre-conceived ideas about how willing vampires are to turn other people are purely based on Gerard, who probably isn’t the best example.

 

 

 

The initial bite is the worst part; it feels more painful than he’s used to, and the shock of it makes him feel the weight of what he’s doing – what he’s done – and he has to push down all thoughts of Gerard so he doesn’t freak out, trying to remind himself that he _wants_ this, this is the reason he just messed up everything with Gerard, so he’s not about to mess this up too.

It doesn’t feel like it had with Gerard, it’s harsher, somehow; like he’s actually being _fed_ on, the way the guy has him pinned against the wall of the alleyway he took him out to making him feel even more trapped – like some kind of prey. It doesn’t feel anywhere as near as sexual as it does with Gerard, which Frank is kind of thankful for, because he’s already starting to feel guilty enough that this isn’t Gerard – just some random guy off the street, instead – the only thing actually keeping him here and doing this is the residual anger from their fight, constantly having to remind himself that Gerard pretty much just outright _refused_ to do this for Frank, even though he’d asked him plenty of times, and given him plenty of time to consider it.

Except he didn’t, Frank reminds himself, Gerard _didn’t_ refuse. He said yes, he agreed to do it, even though they both knew how opposed he was to the idea – he just wasn’t ready to jump straight into it as soon as he agreed. Which Frank is beginning to understand more and more, because he had been quite insistent with Gerard, regardless of the risks, and it makes sense that Gerard was scared – _is_ scared – both Gerard and Mikey have told Frank what happened after he died the last time, no doubt it’d be even worse if it was Gerard’s own fault that he’d died. Frank didn’t want to have to put him through that.

He’s brought out of his thoughts when he can start to feel the effects of the blood still being slowly drained out of his neck, it’s becoming harder to hold himself up, the guy’s – he doesn’t even know his _name_ – hands tighten around Frank’s arms, holding him up so he doesn’t end up falling to the floor, and Frank’s heart starts to race (which is a really shitty response to having your blood basically drained, seriously), because suddenly he’s not so sure about doing this, and somehow it feels like he’s cheating on Gerard, and he’d be pushing the guy away right now if it wasn’t for the fact that he barely has enough energy to stop himself from passing out, let alone to muster up enough strength for him to even notice any pushing.

But then the guy’s pulling away, still keeping Frank supported with one arm, bringing the other one up, which is already cut open and dripping blood – even though Frank doesn’t remember ever seeing him cut it open – and seeing that’s enough of a shock to give him enough energy to back away, shaking his head.

“No, no, I change my mind,” Frank says, almost tripping over his own feet.

“Change your mind? Dude, you’ll die if you’re not turned now – you’ve lost way too much blood.”

“I don’t care,” Frank says, still shaking his head, actually tripping up now, falling back against the wall before his mind can even process the fact that he’s not standing anymore.

“I’m calling 911,” the guy says, and he’s hundreds of miles away, his voice on the other end of a tunnel, watery and distant, and it’s the last thing Frank hears before everything else goes black.

 

 

 

Some time later – Frank doesn’t know how long, he can’t even tell if he’s been conscious this whole time or if he just completely passed out – the paramedics have arrived, all crowding around Frank too close, and something bright is being shone in his eye, making Frank flinch away. Then he’s rising up, and Frank almost feels like laughing – rising up like it’s the fucking rapture that his parents never shut up about when he was growing up – but then Frank feels the arms holding him up, laying him onto a stretcher and lifting that into what must be an ambulance, full of too many lights and sounds and people and machines.

It isn’t a long ride to the hospital, or at least it isn’t long for the time that Frank’s conscious, and the next thing he knows is he’s surrounded by doctors and nurses, blinking up at the spinning hospital ceiling, several machines stuck in his arms, and he can barely even keep his eyes open long enough to ask what’s going on.

 

 

 

The next time Frank opens his eyes, he can see the guy from the bar watching him through the glass window separating the room he’s in from the hallway, a worried expression on his face. _He probably just doesn’t want the guilt of having killed someone_ , Frank thinks, blinking, and then when his eyes are open again Gerard’s there – and he knows there must’ve been more time passing than it felt like, because it’s darker now but the lights are brighter – he’s not looking at Frank, instead focused on the guy from the bar, pressing him against the wall, like he’s about to snap his neck, or worse, but then Mikey’s there pulling him away, and he’s crying into Mikey’s shoulder and Frank’s swept under again by the wave of guilt that consumes him – how could he do this to Gerard? Gerard, the one person he cares about enough to risk his whole fucking life for, who’s already been through shit because of Frank, and now he’s just gone and put him through worse. The last thing Frank thinks is how much he hates himself for doing this, because in no way does Gerard deserve this, he deserves so much better than Frank and what Frank puts him through and then everything is going black again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just remembered I planned to bring Hayley Williams into this and now I can't wait because I'm genuinely in love with her.


	8. Chapter 8

When Frank comes to, the first thing he sees is Gerard – again – in the chair next to his hospital bed, his knees pulled up to his chest, surrounded by a cloud of smoke, and Frank has a moment of panic before he sees the cigarette dangling loosely between Gerard’s fingers, watching as he lifts it to his lips, taking a long, slow drag.

“You don’t smoke,” Frank says, and Gerard’s head shoots up, meeting Frank’s eyes, “and I don’t think you’re allowed to in a hospital.”

“I know,” Gerard says, putting his cigarette out on the bedside table, hiding it in a tissue before throwing it in the bin, “I used to. It’s a bad habit that just starts up again sometimes, I don’t know, it’s a stress thing,” he explains, and Frank feels a wave of guilt hit him as he realises how badly he’s affected Gerard. He doesn’t look like he’s slept in days, and he’s pretty sure he’s wearing the exact same clothes he was when Frank left. His hair is messy and greasy, his eyes bloodshot and tired, dark circles underneath them, and now he's started _smoking_ , too.

“I’m sorry,” Frank says, pulling himself into an upright position, “I…I’m sorry.”

“I thought I was gonna lose you,” Gerard says, looking down and taking one of Frank’s hands in his, “I was so afraid, Frank. The doctors didn’t know if you were gonna make it or not.”

“How long have I been here?”

“A couple of days. Maybe a week,” He says, shaking his head like he’s trying to clear his thoughts, and Frank wants nothing more than to be able to just go back in time and stop himself from storming out and finding that vampire because Gerard just looks so _broken_ , even though Frank’s woken up now and he's _fine_.

“Have you been here this whole time?”

“They wouldn’t let me stay with you outside of visiting hours, so I’d just wait wherever I could until they’d let me back in again.”

“You haven’t left the hospital since I was admitted?”

Gerard shakes his head, “If something happened and I wasn’t…”

“But don’t you need…?” Frank starts, letting Gerard figure out the rest.

He shrugs, “I’ll be fine. You need blood more than I do right now.”

“Gerard, you can’t just-”

“There’s plenty at home for when we go back, it’s fine.”

Frank sighs, knowing there’s no point even trying to argue with him, not wanting to remind him of what happened the last time he went too long without having anything.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Gerard asks, bringing the focus back to Frank, looking up at him with worried eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard says, “about everything, I was being difficult and stubborn and if I’d just- none of this would’ve happened, and-”

“This isn’t your fault, Gee. I made the choice to go off and find some random guy to- can we just…forget about this? We were both stupid.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gerard says absentmindedly, thinking for a moment before saying, “I just- god, I wish I could protect you from everything. I mean, this, more than anything, has made me realise your mortality.”

“Shouldn’t you of all people know just how mortal I am?”

“I know, it’s just…after you came back- I thought you were gone, for good, before, and then you came back. After _seventy years_ , and I guess because of that it just made you feel immortal, like, if you could survive whatever happened then, then you could survive anything. That’s probably why I wasn’t swayed by the idea of you being immortal if I turned you, because it felt like you already were.”

“Because I came back from the dead? That's happened before plenty of times.”

“I know, it seems silly but that’s how it felt, and I don’t know, I-”

Before Gerard can finish, Mikey comes in, throwing his wallet at Gerard, “Go eat.”

“I’m fine, I’m not hungry.”

“I don’t care; you need to at least eat.”

“I’m fine,” Gerard insists.

“Gee, you need to take a break. Go eat something rich in iron.”

Gerard sighs, “But-”

“Frank’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“I know, but-”

“Seriously, before you end up passing out or something.”

Gerard doesn’t bother arguing much, giving in and standing up, “I’m not gonna-” he starts, just as his legs give way underneath him, only staying up because Mikey grabs him, moving faster across the room than Frank can really process.

“Are you sure?” Mikey asks, a look of worry hidden behind his smug expression.

“Shut up,” Gerard says, supporting himself on the back of his chair, “I’ll go eat something.”

“Good,” Mikey says, sitting in Gerard’s seat as he walks out. “God,” Mikey says as soon as the door shuts behind Gerard, “please never do anything like that again, or die, or even get vaguely injured.”

“Huh?”

“He hasn’t slept since you’ve been in the hospital. He hasn’t left, not to feed or even change his fucking clothes. And he’s started fucking _smoking_ again, too. He’s a mess, really.”

“I know; I feel like an idiot. I hate doing all of this to him.”

“I have a deal,” Mikey says, leaning forward in his chair resting his hands on the edge of Frank’s bed.

“…yeah?” Frank asks, ever so slightly worried by the look on Mikey’s face.

“Gerard’s changed his mind, about turning you, and I’m pretty sure as soon as he’s talked to you about it he’s gonna do it the first opportunity he gets, because he’s gotten paranoid now about something happening to you _before_ he gets the chance, instead of _because_ he tries to turn you.”

“So what’s the deal?”

“I’ve been supporting his choice, so in return you’ve got to promise to stop doing stupid things, like going out alone in the middle of the night when a lot of the vampire population hates Gerard, and then going and _approaching_ vampires when a lot of the vampire population hates Gerard, and full out _asking them to turn you_.”

“Oh, shit, I didn’t think of that.”

“Exactly, imagine how much worse this could’ve gone if you’d asked the _wrong_ vampire, and Gerard’s probably now gone and made _more_ vampires hate him because he almost beat up the guy and I’m pretty sure he would’ve killed him if I wasn’t there and we hadn’t been in the middle of the hospital.”

“I need to start thinking things through more.”

“ _Exactly_.”

“Okay, I can try my best to stop doing idiotic things but I can’t make any promises.”

“Fair enough,” Mikey says, sitting back again, instead now crossing his legs and propping them up on the end of Frank’s bed.

 

 

 

When Gerard comes back he looks a lot better, or at least less pale and deathly, and doesn’t bother to try kick Mikey out of his seat, just moves round the other side of the bed, getting Frank to scoot over so he can fit on next to him, interlacing their fingers.

“I suggest a breakout,” Mikey says, after a couple minutes of silence.

“A breakout? From a hospital?” Frank asks, not bothering to hide his incredulous tone. “So, like, leaving behind all the machines that’re keeping me alive?” he adds, and he can feel Gerard’s hand tighten around his.

“Just because they’ll probably end up keeping you here for ages, and I can tell you’re both on edge to get back so you can _finally_ do what you both want to do,” Mikey says, “and just to clarify,” he adds, “I don’t mean sex because it sounded way too much like I did. Plus, Gerard's not gonna leave until you do and that means no blood and no showering until whenever you're released, and no offence Gee but you're still looking way too pale and really starting to smell.”

“So when would this breakout happen?” Gerard asks, rolling his eyes at Mikey's comment.

“I don’t know, tonight probably, I bet the nurses pay less attention at night.”

“How soon is tonight?” Frank asks.

“A couple of hours, I guess. Someone would need to go get some clothes for Frank.”

“I nominate Mikey,” Gerard says, almost instantly, smirking at Mikey’s frown.

“Thanks,” he says, then sighs, “fine. I probably wouldn’t be able to separate you guys anyway. But don’t think I won’t take this opportunity to snoop through all of you guys’ stuff.”

“Are you sure you want to?” Frank asks, “You never know what you might find,” he adds, making sure to make a suggestive face at Mikey.

“Gross,” Mikey says, pulling a face, “I hate you two, I’ll be back in a bit,” he says, getting up and leaving before they can say anything else.

 

 

 

Frank doesn’t know what time it is, only that Gerard’s shaking him awake – what feels like only moments after Mikey left and he drifted off – and handing him a hoodie and jeans.

“Come on,” Gerard says, holding out a hand to help Frank out of bed, “it’s time to go.”

Frank winces when he pulls out the IV drip, then tries not to laugh at the face Gerard makes when he sees the needle, not wasting any time before he finally gets back into his own clothes.

“Ready?” Mikey asks, poking his head in the door, and Gerard nods, holding his arm out for Frank again, and at first he doesn’t think he’ll need it, until he tries to take a step forward and his head starts spinning and his legs feel weak.

With both Gerard and Mikey’s help, in the end, Frank manages to get down to reception without collapsing, and without being noticed by any of the hospital staff, thank god.

“I feel like a teenager breaking the rules again,” Frank whispers, while they wait until it’s busy so they can sneak past – not that any of the staff down here would probably recognise Frank by face, but it probably looks more than suspicious two guys all but carrying someone else, who, looks half zombie and half corpse, as was eloquently put by Mikey.

“Okay, come on,” Mikey says, guiding the others forward and it feels like this one room seems to stretch on forever, but then they’re at the entrance and nobody’s stopped them yet, and then they’re outside, and next to their car, and they actually made it without anyone grabbing them or even looking at them suspiciously.

“We made it,” Frank laughs, and Gerard hums some kind of agreement, leaning down to quickly kiss Frank, because who doesn’t need a victory kiss, even if it is only a small victory. They pull apart laughing at Mikey’s not-so-subtle cough/gag/somehow audible eye roll, and something aches in Frank’s heart for a moment because this just feels so _normal_ , like they’re just three friends that just did something stupid and got away with it.

“Come on,” Gerard says, opening the back door for Frank, and the ache is gone again, Frank pushing it out of his mind, “let’s get home.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A super long chapter (at least compared to other chapters) that I've been waiting for ages to write (which I'm at least 90% sure you guys have been waiting for ages to read) and that I probably could've split in two but I didn't want to.

Frank doesn’t really remember getting into bed, or even getting back to the apartment, for that matter, but he wakes up at some point later, head clouded with sleep and body still feeling weak from the blood loss, which probably wasn't helped by him sneaking out of the hospital before he'd actually recovered and been _allowed_ to leave. There’s no light coming through from behind the curtains, and the air has that night-like quality of stillness and quiet, so Frank should (but doesn't) feel guilty for turning over to wake Gerard up, because he just inexplicably feels the need to be close to him again. But the space in the bed next to Frank is cold and empty, and Frank pushes down the initial feeling of worry, sighing as he gets up, using the wall to support himself as he shuffles down the hall and into the living room, hoping that Gerard is actually there.

“Frank?” Gerard whispers when he comes round the corner, from his spot sitting on the sofa – not even doing anything, just sitting in the complete dark staring at a wall. “You should be resting; you're still not recovered.”

“What’re you doing?” Frank replies, ignoring Gerard’s comment, “It’s the middle of the night.”

“I know,” Gerard says, “I just…needed to think a bit.”

“Don’t say you’re stressing about it again, or that you’re going to back out of it.”

“No, no, I still want to turn you, but…it’s just, I wanted to think a bit first, alone.”

Frank doesn’t reply, just continues his slow shuffling journey towards the sofa, focusing the majority of his energy on trying not to fall over when he reaches the point where he doesn’t have the wall to support him anymore.

“Frank, I don’t-” Gerard starts, cutting himself off when Frank sits down.

“I get it,” Frank says, “I don’t need to talk,” he tells him, drawing his legs up onto the seat next to him and resting his head on Gerard’s shoulder, already feeling himself slipping back into sleep, “I just want to stay here,” he adds, "with you."

 

 

 

“Frank,” Gerard says, gently shaking him awake.

“Hmm?” Frank says, squinting as he opens his eyes, looking up at Gerard, and it takes him a moment to realise he’s lying down now, his head resting in Gerard’s lap, and he pulls himself into a sitting position, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know,” Gerard shrugs, “early.”

“Then why are we awake?”

“If…once you’ve been turned, you’ll want to sleep for a while, so I thought it’d be best if you can sleep through the day; it takes a while to get used to being awake in sunlight.”

“So that means…?”

“Yeah,” Gerard says, “if you’re ready.”

“I’m more than ready,” Frank says, following Gerard back to their room, feeling butterflies in his stomach, both happy and nervous.

“Are you sure?” Gerard asks, stopping and turning Frank to face him at the end of the bed.

“I haven’t been more sure about anything before,” Frank says, grabbing Gerard’s hand and tugging it until they both fall back onto the bed.

“I know, just…I want to make sure, _actually_ sure, is this what you want?” Gerard asks, looking down at Frank underneath him, ignoring the hair falling in his face.

“ _Yes_ ,” Frank sighs, taking Gerard’s face in his hands, “you _know_ that,” he adds, before pulling him down so their lips meet, Frank trying not to smirk when he feels Gerard’s fangs, anticipation building in his chest.

“If-” Gerard tries to say, not even properly breaking up the kiss until he realises he has to to be able to talk, “if anything goes wrong-”

“Nothing’s gonna go wrong.”

“Just, hear me out. If anything goes wrong, remember that I love you, okay?”

“I’m not about to forget that anytime soon,” Frank says, “stop worrying. Mind over matter and all that.”

“What, because I’m worried I might go too far or mess up, that means I will?”

Frank shrugs, as much as he can when he’s practically pinned underneath Gerard, anyway, “Who knows. That’s not an excuse for you to stop now, though.”

Gerard laughs lightly, his breath ghosting across Frank’s lips, and then his neck as he dips his head lower, “I know,” he says, his lips barely touching the skin of Frank’s neck, making him shiver. “I love you,” he mumbles again, right against Frank’s neck, and then he’s digging his fangs in, the sharp pain making Frank gasp, before it’s replaced with that same, weirdly pleasant numbness.

“God, I love you,” Frank says when Gerard lifts his head up momentarily, pulling him into a quick kiss, not really knowing how to feel about the taste of his own blood filling his mouth, then letting Gerard go again, who drops his head straight down to Frank’s neck again, where he can almost actually feel the blood being taken, his body becoming heavier and colder.

Frank squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath to stop his body from automatically panicking, trying to make himself relax and relish in the fact that this is _finally_ happening.

Something feels different when Frank opens his eyes again, Gerard is still there, but now he’s by his side instead, clinging onto one of his hands, a fear in his eyes that makes Frank feel sick, and the first thing he thinks is something must’ve gone wrong, he couldn’t turn him and now Frank’s dying and Gerard’s beating himself up over it. Except, Gerard looks different, his eyes look younger while he still physically looks the same, his hair’s lighter, a warm brown instead of the black he dyes it. Frank’s lungs feel tight and heavy, and it reminds him of the feeling he’d get back when he was always sick as a kid, like he couldn’t breathe right, a cough always right at the back of his throat.

“I…I can’t breathe,” Frank gasps, not evening thinking about the words, just saying them, as if he’s not even the one talking.

“Frank…” Gerard says, looking like he’s on the edge of tears, “I love you so, so much. I always will. Even if…even if this is it, just remember that.”

“I love you too,” Frank says, trying to hide the panic he feels from the emptiness in his lungs, but he ignores it, pushes it to the back of his mind, not wanting to do anything to worsen the look of pure grief written across Gerard’s face, and he hates that that’s the last expression he sees on his face before he closes his eyes again, unable to keep them open any longer.

 

 

 

“I was hoping I’d die before you,” Frank finds himself saying when he opens his eyes again, forcing himself to laugh so that at least Gerard wouldn’t cry, feeling just as confused again over the fact that he’s in _another_ different place.

“Don’t say that,” Gerard says, shaking his head and taking a deep, uneven breath, “you’re not gonna die.”

“Gerard-” Frank sighs, “You know it’s gonna happen.”

“I don’t care, I’m not gonna let you.”

Frank laughs, genuinely this time, “I love you, but you can’t just stop me from dying.”

Gerard sighs, “I wish I could.”

“You look freaked out,” Frank hears Gerard say, but from a different direction entirely, and he squeezes his eyes shut, not knowing where the voice is coming from, and when he opens them he’s in a different place – _again­_ – Gerard standing next to him on some kind of boat, and Frank notices the weight of the gun in his hand and the helmet on his head, somehow both a foreign and familiar feeling at once.

“Well, it is a war, remember,” Frank says, the moment he opens his mouth it fills with the salty spray from the ocean surrounding them.

“Fair enough,” Gerard says, “don’t worry, you’ll do fine.”

“More worried about whether I die or not than how well I do.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t die,” Gerard reassures him, patting his shoulder, “we’ve got each other’s backs.”

“Yeah,” Frank says, still feeling sick nervousness in the pit of his stomach, making him want to either jump out and swim back, or throw up over the edge.

“It’ll be fine,” Gerard repeats, smiling comfortingly at Frank when he turns to look at him, “stop worrying.”

The next few moments are a blur, Frank barely processes the fact that suddenly they’re on the shore, and running, bullets flying everywhere. All Frank knows is he sees a gun aimed at Gerard and then he’s jumping in his way, shoving him to the floor as pain shoots through his chest and he’s knocked to the floor too.

“Frank!” Gerard yells, getting up onto his knees so he’s by Frank’s side, frantically trying to find and put pressure on the bullet wounds, “Why- why did you do that?”

“They were gonna shoot you,” Frank says, wincing at the pain shooting through his body, all radiating from his chest, blood quickly soaking through his uniform, feeling all his energy slowly slipping away. "We've got each others backs, remember?"

“No, no,” Gerard says, shaking Frank with one hand, “don’t close your eyes, you’re gonna make it through this.”

“Three bullet wounds to the chest,” Frank says, letting out a short laugh that he immediately regrets from the pain it sends through him, “that’s not something you can bounce back from.”

“I don’t care, you’re going to, whether you like it or not.”

“You know I’m not going to; you’re just going to get yourself killed sitting out in the open like this. Keep fighting, Gerard, win this war for me.”

“Fuck,” Gerard says, shaking his head and frowning, “I love you, Frank,” he says, brushing the damp hair out of Frank’s face, “I love you so much.”

“You- you what?”

“I can’t explain this all now, just know that I love you, okay?” Gerard says, and the last thing Frank feels is his lips pressing gently against his forehead, and then everything else just falls away.

 

 

 

“Frank? Frank?” Gerard asks, hands on Frank’s face, keeping him so that he’s facing him, “Are you okay?”

“Hmm?” Frank mumbles, squinting up at Gerard in confusion, his eyelids feeling too heavy to even open. “Yeah,” he says, closing his eyes again, wanting nothing more than to just _sleep_.

“You passed out, I was worried.”

“’m good,” Frank mumbles, not bothering to open his eyes again.

Frank can hear Gerard take a deep breath above him, and then his wrist is being pressed against Frank’s lips, blood dripping down into his mouth, _Gerard’s_ blood. Frank was expecting the worst, because of what Gerard had said when he’d been trying to convince Frank out of this – not that he was really thinking it through; he was too confused with his head still filled with all the different things he’d been seeing – but it’s completely different, the weakness he’d felt before being replaced with strength, stronger than he’d ever experienced before.

When Frank closes his eyes, he starts seeing them again, what he now realises are memories, faster and faster, like they’re all just running through his head, barely long enough for Frank to really _see_ them, just enough to _remember_. Not all the memories are about Gerard, even, it’s like he’s just finally piecing together all the missing parts of his life – _lives_ – and seeing them as if they’re actually a memory, rather than as if they were some movie of another person’s life, not something he’s actually experienced. He remembers his wife, getting married, having to sneak around and hide his relationship with Gerard, and it all feels somehow both completely surreal and more real than he could believe.

“This is _stupid_ ,” Gerard had said, sighing and running his hands through his hair.

“What is?”

“ _This_ , all this sneaking around and hiding everything, I hate it so much. Just because we’re both men that means no one’s allowed to know about us? I love you, and I want to scream that to the fucking world, but I _can’t_ and I _hate_ it.”

“Gerard,” Frank said, “you know I don’t like this either, but if we actually told anyone…”

“I know; it’d probably end up worse than if they all found out I’m actually a vampire.”

Frank can remember Gerard being turned now, how terrifying it’d all been, just the sight of it all, let alone the possibility of Gerard getting killed if he and Mikey didn’t stop it.

“Frank!” he’d heard Mikey yell, and that was just enough to get him worrying; Mikey wasn’t exactly one to yell and overreact to small things.

“What is it?” Frank asked.

“Its- its Gerard,” he said, out of breath, and Frank doesn’t think he’s ever moved faster to follow Mikey. “That guy that was arrested, he’s escaped and-”

“Oh my god,” Frank said when Mikey stopped, completely at a loss for what else to say; there were bodies everywhere and _so_ much blood that even Frank – who’s hardly squeamish in the slightest – felt like throwing up. When he spotted the familiar body across the other side of the square, brown hair mussed up and clothes soaked in blood, Frank didn’t know what to do, but it felt like his heart had just been ripped out and his body frozen, completely unable to move. “No…” he said, finally getting his body to move, feeling numb as he rushed over to Gerard, dropping down onto his knees by his side and trying to not just break down completely.

“He can’t…he can’t be dead, he’s not dead, is he?” Frank asked, feeling as though his own voice was miles away.

“I don’t know,” Mikey said, looking equally as distraught, his hands already soaked in Gerard’s blood where he’d tried to find the wounds and check his pulse.

“No, he can’t, he’s not-”

“Frank?” Gerard said suddenly, voice quiet and barely audible, but enough to make Frank’s heart skip a beat and head snap down to look at Gerard again. “Mikey? What happened?”

“You were attacked,” Mikey said, while Frank was still trying to process that Gerard was still _alive_ , relief washing over him.

“Oh, shit,” Gerard said, trying to sit up, which was enough to get Frank to move again.

“Don’t,” Frank said, “you need to see a doctor.”

“No, they- I can’t, I need to get away from here. Help me get back to the house.”

“Gerard, you’ll bleed out if you try to walk,” Mikey said, stopping Gerard from trying to get himself upright again.

“They can’t see me here, just- trust me, okay? I’ll explain it later,” Gerard said, and Frank and Mikey gave up resisting after a while, helping Gerard to his feet and taking a back path to his house that he insisted on taking.

When Gerard had told them what happened, and that he’d been turned, it amazingly didn’t worry or affect Frank that much, most likely because he was still affected by the relief of hearing Gerard talk after he’d seen what he’d thought was his corpse lying in the middle of a street. Mikey was definitely more worried than Frank, mostly because he was convinced someone would find out about Gerard and arrest and kill him like they had so many other people, which Frank guesses is one of the benefits of being in a secret gay adulterous relationship, is that you’re not as worried about having to keep secrets, and don’t question your ability to do so as much.

Even though they’d gotten Gerard away from the place of the attack as fast as they could, people had still seen him, so they had to go through hell trying to protect him and convince people he wasn’t actually in enough contact with the vampire for him to have been turned, which took a lot, and they found out exactly how persistent some of the people they knew could be, especially when Gerard started going out less and less in the day. It didn’t help that his wife didn’t believe him at first either, and only assisted in furthering everyone else’s opinions of Gerard.

Frank also now remembers what must’ve been the first time he came back; the first time Gerard saw him after he thought he’d died for good.

“What?” Frank had asked after Gerard had seen him and introduced himself, not being able to understand why Gerard – except it doesn’t feel like _Gerard_ at all, more like a stranger that he now knows is Gerard – is looking at him like he’s about to burst into tears. “Are you okay? Have we met before?”

“No, no, it’s just…you remind me of someone, someone that died, a long time ago. It’s nothing.”

Other memories start to come back to him, so much so that he doesn’t know what to do with so much information, so many lifetimes of memories. He can remember each and every time he met Gerard, his confusion each time at the look of recognition in Gerard’s eyes that he’d always refuse to explain or just put down to Frank looking like someone he used to know, which, Frank guesses, isn’t _strictly_ a lie, but now that he remembers everything he wishes Gerard had told him every time – maybe not _straight_ away, because no doubt that would’ve scared Frank off for good, but at some point – so that they didn’t have to waste so much time getting to know each other all over again and restarting their relationship completely. He remembers kissing Gerard for the first time, which stands out distinctly each time, and Frank isn’t going to deny to himself how amazing it is getting to relive his first kiss – _several_ first kisses – with Gerard over and over in his head. He also remembers Mikey, which is weird, because before he’d just been Gerard’s brother that he’d been starting to get to know in the short time since they’d met, but now he actually feels like he _knows_ him, as a friend, even better than all the friends he’s known in this life. Frank also realises now that he _had_ remembered things before, not just in this life, he’d just never told Gerard before. He’d never remembered anywhere near as much as he had this time around, but enough to confuse him, because he’d never known about his reincarnation or _whatever_ this is, or even about Gerard being a vampire, which was probably why Frank remembered more now, when he knew about everything, because he actually understood what he was seeing, rather that it being some weird dream of his boyfriend in a situation he’d never been with him in, or a time he’d never even been _alive_ in. 

The memories start to slow down eventually, fading away as Frank feels himself slipping deeper and deeper into a heavy, somewhat relieving, sleep, and he can hear Gerard trying to talk to him, somewhere in the distance, and he wants to listen to him, reassure him that he’s fine, but it’s far too easy to just let go and give in to the sleep that’s insistently trying to claim him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People probably talked very differently in the 1700s and the various other time periods in this but I don't really care and hopefully you guys don't either. Also if anyone's listened to don't try and pinkish feel free to cry with me.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little filler chapter because I've had a busy week and should be writing an essay but chose to write this instead.

Frank opens his eyes to too-bright light, and it takes him a moment to even recognise where his is, let alone remember anything. The only light coming in is from underneath the curtains, and even that’s too bright right now. It feels like when you’re trying to manoeuvre through pitch blackness and you feel hyper-aware of all your other senses, except so much more, and Frank can actually see this time around. He’s confused – beyond confused – at first, only being able to recognise that he’s at home and alone, not being able to even begin to understand why he feels so different and _old_ , not physically, but somehow still older. He starts to push himself upright and into a sitting position when he notices the blood on his shirt, and his heart skips a beat before everything comes flooding back; Gerard turning him, remembering _everything._ No wonder he feels older, with over ten times as memories as he’d had before.

“Gerard?” Frank calls out, but instead of Gerard, Mikey’s there in front of him in seconds.

“Frank?” he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed, “Are you okay?” Frank nods, opening his mouth to say something when he’s interrupted by Mikey. “You need to drink something.”

“I’m not-” Frank starts, but then stops himself when he sees the glass Mikey’s holding out, full of blood, and he can’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

“What?”

“Blood in a glass. That’s weird.”

“Well, it’s better than out of a body, right?”

“First thing in the morning is always a great time for morbid jokes.”

“Yeah, ‘first thing in the morning’, it’s, like, the middle of the afternoon.”

“Oh, right,” Frank says, taking the glass from Mikey and raising it to his lips before he can start to overthink the fact that he’s drinking _blood_ , and he tries not to pull a face when he first tastes it, thick and coppery, but then he’s swallowing down the first mouthful, and it’s so _relieving_ – like drinking after performing a whole show without a bottle of water – that he downs it in one go.

“Where’s Gerard?” Frank asks – he’d been expecting Gerard not to leave his side since he’d turned him, and now he’s not even here when Frank’s actually woken, and Frank can’t help but to feel slightly disappointed.

“He went out to the store to get some more blood, because that,” he says, looking down at the empty glass, “isn’t gonna be anywhere near enough for you right now, and the stuff in the fridge probably isn’t either,” and Frank couldn’t agree more, the glass Mikey gave him has satisfied him for now, but if the thirst he felt when he woke up is anything to go by, he’ll need some again soon. “He’s gonna hate me, I convinced him you’d probably be out for another couple of hours, or even days, that’s the only reason he actually went out.”

“How long have I actually been asleep?” Frank asks, wiping the blood from his lips, trying not to laugh at the strangeness of it all.

“Maybe, like, 10 or 11 hours?”

“That’s all? I thought I wouldn’t wake up for at least 24 hours.”

“Yeah, me and Gerard thought the same, so no doubt this means he’ll start worrying that something’s wrong.”

“He’d worry if I stayed asleep too, though.”

“Yeah, good point,” Mikey says, standing up suddenly when he hears Gerard’s keys in the lock, “I’ll be back in a second,” he tells Frank, going back out into the hallway. Frank can’t deny the excitement he feels at the prospect of seeing Gerard, even though he saw him just this morning, it feels like he hasn’t seen him in forever, and now that he remembers everything, he can’t help but wonder if anything’s going to be different. He feels like he knows Gerard so much better now, it’s not like he was exactly a stranger before, but it would’ve been impossible to have gotten to know him that well after only having know Gerard for the tiniest part of his life.

Frank hears voices outside, and although he can’t make out exactly what they’re saying, he presumes that Mikey’s just told Gerard that he’s awake, because in no time at all Frank hears Gerard’s – _fast_ – footsteps before he comes into the room.

 “Frank?” Gerard asks as soon as he comes through the door, and Frank’s up and out of bed and in front of Gerard, wrapping his arms around him in barely a second. He’s gonna have to get used to this speed thing.

“Gerard,” Frank says, smiling into Gerard’s shoulder, “I love you so fucking much.”

“Wha-”

“I remember,” Frank says, pulling away to look at Gerard, “everything.”

“You what?” Gerard asks, frowning, and Frank just wants to kiss him and never let go of him because somehow he loves him even fucking _more_ now, which he didn’t realise was really possible. This is what spending the best part of 300 years with someone does to you.

“When you turned me, it’s like- all my memories, _everything_ , from all the past lives came flooding back, I don’t know if it was because I was dying or because I was being turned or what, but god, I fucking love you,” Frank says, pulling Gerard back into another tight hug, pulling away ever so slightly to kiss him, not even able to do it properly because his mouth won’t stop smiling. Except then he feels salt mixing into the kiss, and the wetness of Gerard’s tears against his cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” Frank asks when he pulls away, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

“Nothing,” Gerard says, not looking anything but happy, despite the tears on his cheeks, “it’s just- every time you died, I thought I’d lost those years with you forever, but now-” Gerard says, shaking his head, “I love you.”

 

 

 

Mikey and Gerard both try and get Frank to go to sleep again, or at least drink some more, but Frank doesn’t really feel like doing either, so he just ends up wasting a bunch of time lying in bed. Gerard joins him at first, probably hoping it’ll make Frank sleep, but he just keeps either trying to talk to Gerard or distract him in various other ways, until eventually Gerard gives up and goes to sit in the living room, leaving Frank alone to slowly go insane.

Maybe half an hour after Gerard leaves Frank gives up too, going to find Gerard so he can at least do _something_ instead of lie around waiting to get tired enough to sleep, which _really_ doesn't work.

“You shouldn’t be up, at least try to rest,” Gerard says when Frank comes in, and Frank ignores him, the first thing he notices being that Gerard’s smoking _again_ , which means he probably has been other times when Frank’s not around, too.

“You shouldn’t be smoking,” Frank replies, trying to make Gerard see that he’s serious.

“I can’t help it,” Gerard says, putting out his cigarette.

“Well, you stopped now,” Frank says, sitting on Gerard’s lap so that he’s facing him, his knees against Gerard’s sides.

“That was just one cigarette, it doesn’t mean I can stop completely.”

Frank sighs, loosely wrapping his arms round Gerard’s neck, “How can I get you to stop this?”

“I don’t know; I need distractions to be able to quit again.”

“I could think of some,” Frank says, leaning closer and closing the distance between them, resting his forehead against Gerard’s so that they’re all but kissing.

“Yeah?” Gerard says, breath hitting Frank’s lips, just as Mikey comes in the door, managing to knock all of the shopping bags he’s carrying on just about every wall and piece of furniture within range, while simultaneously making a gagging noise.

“You guys are gross.”

“Thanks,” Frank says, leaning back, just as Gerard says, “I just went to the shop earlier.”

“Yeah,” Mikey says, “but you hardly bought shit.”

“How can you not even live here and still be an annoying roommate?” Gerard asks, laughing when Mikey rolls his eyes.

“It’s a special talent,” Mikey says.

“Yeah, it really is.”

Frank laughs, moving off of Gerard to sit next to him instead, resting his head back against the sofa, looking up at the ceiling.

“Are you-” Gerard starts, turning his body to face Frank, and Frank turns to look at him, not bothering to lift his head up, “are you definitely, like…okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, it’s just, you seem okay and-”

“That normally means I _am_ okay.”

“But you’ve just been turned into a _vampire_ , Frank, you’ve basically just _died_ , I feel like it shouldn’t be this…easy.”

“If you keep expecting something to go wrong, that probably won’t help.”

Gerard sighs, “That’s not what…I’m just worried, like something’s gonna happen. You hardly seem affected by this; you barely even slept, or had to drink much. When I was turned I was out of it for a week, barely wanting to leave my bed or talk to anyone. I was too afraid to even stay in the same room as you and Mikey. Pete says he was pretty much the same, and refused to talk to anyone and just locked himself in his room. He says Patrick got better quicker, but he just wouldn’t be _present_ half the time, even if he was conscious and talking.”

“Maybe it’s cause I actually _chose_ to be turned. You guys were all put through it unwillingly.”

“It still doesn’t feel right, I don’t know.”

“Maybe the universe has just decided to cut us a break.”

“Yeah,” Gerard says, “if only.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was going to try and finish this and upload it last weekend because I only needed to finish the very beginning except then captain america was a thing that happened and it kind of broke me for a couple of days and I've watched it twice since and only now gotten the chance to write again.

When Frank wakes up, it’s to a room he knows should be pitch black, but it’s like he can see every detail through the darkness, and he can’t tell whether it’s a weird dream or he’s just out of it from waking up in the middle of the night. He feels dissociated from himself, somehow. Like his mind hasn’t connected to his body quite right and now he can’t control himself properly. He stands up without even thinking about it, pausing to give himself time for the head rush that should’ve come from the speed he stood up at, but never does. He turns back to see Gerard, his still form wrapped up in the blankets, one arm stretched out to where Frank had been lying before. It almost makes him want to just climb back into bed and curl up against him, ignore whatever it was that woke him up, but he knows he can’t and before he knows it he’s moving to the kitchen, his feet working separate from his brain; one second moving at full speed before Frank tries to stop himself and act normal, before it just repeats over again.

By the time he’s in the kitchen, he’s identified the feeling in the back of his throat, the dry, burning thirst centred there that he somehow feels throughout his entire body; in his heart and lungs and veins and every other organ.

“What are you doing?” Mikey asks, making Frank jump away from the fridge guiltily – when did he get in front of the fridge? – not even sure why he feels guilty or like he shouldn’t be doing this; Mikey should be expecting this of him.

“I…” Frank says, his voice coming out croaky, almost as if it was a _real_ thirst, and gestures back at the fridge, now the other side of the room to him.

Mikey nods, thankfully understanding Frank, “Don’t wake up Gerard. He needs sleep.”

Frank nods, already feeling like his mind is slowly drifting away from his body again, or maybe the other way round, as Mikey leaves to hopefully go back to his temporary bed where he’d been staying just while Frank recovered from being turned, and even though Frank’s actions are fast and alert, it feels like his brain is moving at a snail’s pace, dried out and filled with cobwebs.

He’s back at the fridge again before he even thinks about moving, looking through inside until he finds what he needs. Cold, but still that deep, rich red that’s now surrounding the edges of Frank’s vision, filling his head. His teeth rip through the packet and he has the distant sensation of the cold liquid pouring down his chin and chest, but he ignores it, pushes it away, instead favouring the feeling of it gushing down his throat, providing some vague momentary relief from the thirst and keeping that one, thin connection of his mind to his body.

Frank reaches in for another packet, just to realise there’s nothing left – the fridge empty of anything but food and the floor covered in empty plastic and smears of blood.

The burning is building again in Frank’s throat, despite however much blood he just consumed, the evidence of it surrounding him – it still wasn’t enough. He could feel himself drifting further and further away with each moment as he makes his way down the hall, not even bothering to be quiet walking past Mikey on the sofa in the living room.

Then Frank’s outside the apartment, at the bottom of the staircase, in front of someone’s door. Pounding blood, racing heart. Soft, pale skin and blue veins. It’s as simple as a bite and finally, _finally_ , real blood. Red and hot and everywhere, dripping, pouring down his throat giving him _relief_. Then rough hands pulling at his shoulders, holding back his arms. Blood dripping down his chin as hands spin him around. Hands holding his wrists together tightly. Mikey’s hands. Mikey. Shit.

“Frank, what the _fuck_?” _Shit_. “Stay here,” he says, pushing Frank against a wall.

Frank knows Mikey’s talking to someone, arguing maybe, but his head still doesn’t feel right, his mind moving slow, clouded and heavy with something Frank’s never felt before.

“Let’s go,” Mikey says, grabbing Frank’s wrist again and leading them back up to his apartment, slamming the door behind him, making Frank flinch. “Sorry.”

“I need to-” Frank starts, barely feeling able to stay standing up.

“What the fuck was that?” Mikey asks, before Frank can finish.

“What?” Frank asks, “’m not drunk,” he adds, feeling the need to clarify it to Mikey.

“I know.”

“Can I go back to sleep?”

Mikey sighs, “Don’t you want to at least clean yourself up first?”

Frank shrugs, “Don’t need to.”

“Do you want Gerard to wake up next to you looking like that?”

“I don’t look that bad.”

“Are you serious?”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Frank asks; he’s slowly returning to his body but he still doesn’t feel quite right yet – everything moving slowly.

Mikey sighs, "Just get some sleep. We can talk in the morning."

"Okay," Frank shrugs, not really caring as long as it means he gets to lie down and maybe get his _brain_ to return to his fucking _body_.

 

 

 

The next time Frank wakes up, he feels a thousand times better; his head feels clear and is moving at a  _normal_ speed, the only thing wrong is the cloud surrounding his memories of whatever happened last night. He turns over to see if Gerard’s awake, but he’s already gotten up, so Frank gets up to go to the bathroom, hoping that waking himself up completely would help him remember.

He doesn’t look in the mirror when he goes into the bathroom, just straight away ducks his head down in front of the sink and splashes water over his face, freezing when he sees the red washing down the sink.

"I don't know,” Frank hears Gerard saying from another room, over the ringing in his ears when he sees the dried blood covering the lower half of his face, along with his neck and shirt, “I've never heard of a vampire _not_ drinking from people when they first get turned, I mean, the stuff they sell really isn't great. Especially when you're first turned." Frank's sure Gerard's talking about him, but he still doesn't understand a word he's saying.

"What about Pete?"

"He'd drink from vampires as well as the packets. It seemed to work, I don't know, unless he just hid the fact that he was drinking from Patrick as well or something. Do you think he'll be okay now? He's not gonna want to...keep...drinking from people?" Frank doesn’t understand what Gerard’s saying, and he knows he probably shouldn’t be listening in, but he can’t stop himself, and whatever it is it’s making him feel sick, a feeling of dread settling in the pit of his stomach, because he knows something isn’t right.

"I really don't know. He didn't seem like himself, like, even when she was fucking on the floor and he was covered in blood and I had to sort everything, it was like he didn't even care about it, it was just like...something he had to deal with, I don't know he wasn't even paying attention, he was completely out of it."

"Fuck, maybe I should let him drink from me? It could help, if it helped Pete. I think he let Patrick drink from him, too, to give him enough energy and stuff because the packets won't give you anywhere near enough when you've just been turned."

"Is it safe, though?"

"Frank can't really hurt me.”

"I know, it's just...you need to be careful."

"Should I talk to him?"

"If he's awake."

"I'll go see," Gerard says, and Frank feels kind of dazed for a moment, still stuck in a confusion of _what the hell are they talking about_ , until something just kind of clicks and he remembers. Feeling the life drain out of her, her blood still staining his face and shirt. Her blood still pumping round his body. He tries to move away, back to the bedroom so Gerard doesn't realise he'd been eavesdropping, but he just somehow ends up on the floor of the hallway instead, his back against the wall.

"Frank?"

“I- I-” Frank stutters, feeling his voice shaking, “oh, god.”

"You- hey," he says, coming up to kneel in front of Frank.

"I killed her, didn’t I?" Frank asks, not letting Gerard respond before he continued, “I _knew_ her. I’d spoken to her before when we passed in the halls. She was _nice_. And I fucking killed her, without even thinking twice. I didn't even _care_. I’m not- I _wanted_ this, I was getting on at you for ages, and you wouldn’t because you thought it was dangerous and I just _didn’t listen_ and now I’m a fucking murderer and I had the fucking nerve to feel fucking uncomfortable when I'd seen you kill people. They had all deserved to die, but she didn't and now she's dead because of me, _fuck_."

“Frank, no, no, you-” Gerard tries to start, but Frank shakes his head, interrupting.

“I’m a fucking _monster_ and-”

“Frank, you didn’t kill _anyone_.”

“But I-”

“She’s still alive, she’s okay. Mikey made sure she woke up and talked to her and made sure you wouldn’t get arrested.”

“I should be arrested. What if I attack someone else and Mikey can’t stop me this time?”

"Frank, it's okay, you couldn't help it."

“It’s _not_. I _hurt_ someone.”

"When you're thirsty, it's hard to-"

“It doesn’t matter why or that I wasn’t in control, it’s that I could do it again and I could _kill_ someone. I should- you should call the police.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Frank.”

“I’m not being ridiculous!” Frank yells, “I hurt someone,” he says, his voice small now, “there’s no excuse for that.”

“It wasn’t you, you couldn’t help it.”

"So?" Frank asks, raising his voice again, "I could do it again, how do I know that I won't wake up again like that?"

"I can keep an eye on you. And Mikey while he's staying here. We can make sure it doesn't happen again."

"What, by locking me in a room whenever I sleep?"

"I don't know," Gerard says, reaching a hand forward and brushing Frank's hair back, wiping the tears that he didn't even realise were there, "we'll figure something out, okay?"

"Okay," Frank agrees.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm annoyed at myself for not writing for ages but I took a break for finals week and that break just gradually extended with all the deadlines I got, but now I'm on summer break I can finally (hopefully) write all the time, so I'm very sorry for not updating for so long but I'll hopefully be making up for it soon.

“Gerard, it’s like 3am, what the fuck do you want?” Pete says the second he picks up the phone, and Gerard’s already regretting even calling in the first place.

“Sorry, I was just up thinking, and…” Gerard trails off, not really knowing even where to start, or exactly why he called, all he knows is the person he really wants to talk to is fast asleep and hasn’t been in the mood for talking for days.

“Is this about Frank?”

“Mikey told you about that? Since when did you two even hang out?”

“What can I say? He’s a cool guy.”

“He’s really not.”

Pete tuts, like some old mother fed up with her bickering sons, and Gerard’s pretty sure he’s rolling his eyes too, “So what’s up with Frank? Or with you…about Frank, or, like…whatever. You know what I mean.”

“I’m worried about him.”

“Why? Has he done something else?”

“No, but he might. He’s definitely worried he might; he hardly wants to do anything. He wouldn’t even come to the grocery store with me today. I don’t know what to do, I’ve never done this before- I’ve never had to help someone when they turned, Mikey had already adjusted by the time they’d let him go, and you’d already been turned when we met and you helped Patrick through it before anyone else even saw him, and you know I don’t really interact with any other vampires. I just want to _help_ him but I’m completely clueless and he’s hardly even speaking to me, he’s just kind of hidden inside himself ever since he…you know. He helped me when I turned and now I can hardly do a _fucking_ thing when it’s him,” Gerard spills out, in one breath, forgetting about Frank sleeping in just the next room and letting his voice get too loud.

“Okay, uh, does he remember what he did when you were turned?”

“I don’t know. I tried asking him but he wasn’t exactly up for talking, he just said something about how I didn’t kill or attack anyone, and I didn’t really want to go into the fact that I’ve done way worse since.”

“Have you tried letting him drink from you?”

“Not yet. I don’t know how he’d feel about it.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out, so you’ve kind of got to ask him, you fucking idiot.”

Gerard sighs, “Yeah, I know. But does it actually work though, like, is it enough?”

“Well, he still needs human blood, but it’s enough until he gets used to it and gets off the newly-turned vampire frenzy shit.”

Gerard sighs again, rubbing at his eyes and wishing he’d gone to sleep hours ago, “Okay, yeah, I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

“Today,” Pete corrects, “it’s 3am.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” Pete says, and Gerard rolls his eyes, catching a shadow as he looks up, taking a moment before he realizes it’s Frank after his eyes adjust.

“Who are you talking to?” he asks, his voice quiet and small, making Gerard’s heart break because he can’t stand seeing Frank looking so delicate and afraid of himself that he just wants to wrap him up and fix _everything_.

“Pete,” Gerard says, “uh, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he tells Pete quickly, before hanging up. “Did I wake you up?” he asks, dropping his phone on the sofa and walking over to Frank slowly. They’d hardly even touched in the last few days, making Gerard feel like if he even got close to Frank it would make him pull away again.

“No, I mean, I- uh, I don’t know,” Frank says, frowning, “I just heard you, so I- I don't know. What were you talking about?”

“It’s…I’ll explain in the morning.”

“Yeah, okay,” Frank says, already sounding hundreds of miles away, staring absently at the floor.

“Are you okay?” Gerard asks, for what feels like the thousandth time in the last few days, and he’s expecting the exact same response Frank’s given him every time; a shrug or a nod or an absentminded “yeah” or “sure”. Except, Frank looks up at Gerard, his eyes wide and innocent and _scared_ , and if Gerard wasn’t looking out for any kind of movement, he’d have missed the minute shake of Frank’s head before he dropped it down again.

Gerard doesn’t have anything to say, he knows nothing he could say anyway would help Frank, or even get him to listen, so instead he just steps closer, wrapping his arms around Frank and resting his forehead on top of Frank’s head, not sure which of the two of them he’s trying to comfort.

“Lets go back to bed,” Gerard says eventually, pulling back ever so slightly, but still not letting go of Frank.

“Yeah,” Frank agrees, “yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter provided plenty of writer's block and I wish I could've made it longer or more eventful but I just wanted to update so I could continue with the story more (I'll hopefully upload another chapter soon that's longer and makes up for the wait more than this tiny one)


	13. Chapter 13

Frank wishes he could sleep, he honestly does, no matter how much it seems like the opposite; he’s been lying here for what _must_ be hours by now, and he hasn’t even tried closing his eyes or tossing and turning to get comfortable, just stares straight up ahead into the darkness thinking about nothing. He’s sure Gerard’s still awake next to him, because he’s actually been tossing and turning, sighing every now and then. He’s gone still now, though, but Frank can tell he hasn’t fallen asleep yet – when he’s asleep, his breathing gets all soft, an occasional light snore thrown in if he’s really tired.

Gerard’s worried about him, Frank can guess that much, and it doesn’t help the guilt that’s taken up residence in his stomach, heart, brain, and whatever the fuck else. Every single body part Frank has. He wants to tell Gerard that it’s okay, and that he’ll be fine, except he can’t because he’s really fucking sure it’s not and he won’t be. Sure, he can lie, it’s not like he never has before, but Gerard’s not gonna believe him anyway, so he might as well let Gerard realise that he’s just as fucking scared as him. Maybe more. Or maybe just in a different way. Gerard’s worried Frank’s being too hard on himself, and that he’s just never gonna trust himself again or what the fuck ever it is going through his head, while Frank is worried, scared, fucking _terrified_ , that he’ll do it again. That maybe he’s even trusting himself too much by letting himself fucking sleep next to Gerard. He doesn’t even want to close his eyes in case the next time he opens them he’s covered in someone’s blood again. It could even be fucking _Gerard’s_ blood, and Frank would have no way to stop it, because he’s got no fucking control over himself.

“Are you awake?” Frank asks, his subconscious brain kind of deciding to speak before Frank even gets to consider it.

“Yeah,” Gerard says, voice quiet in an almost-whisper, and the second Frank hears his voice he feels flooded with relief and he knows he spoke just to _check_ , like, sure, he could hear Gerard’s deep breathing next to him, but that could’ve just been Frank’s imagination when Gerard was really just lying in a fucking puddle of blood or something and Frank didn’t even realise.

Frank doesn’t say anything after that, not really knowing what to say, he just turns on his side, staring at Gerard’s profile, the tip of his nose and curve of his lips lit up by the streetlight creeping under the curtains.

“Are you okay?” Gerard asks after some more silence.

Frank shakes his head minutely, then realises Gerard can’t see him because he’s still watching the ceiling, but he doesn’t want to repeat that again and make Gerard worry even more, so instead he just asks, “What were you talking to Pete about?”

“You should sleep,” Gerard The Fucking Hypocrite says, ignoring the question, turning on his side to face Frank, meeting his eyes, wide and bright in the darkness.

“Can’t,” Frank says, eyes flicking away for a moment before they come back to meet Gerard’s.

“What’s wrong?”

“You know what’s wrong.”

“I know, but…I’m worried about you, Frank. You don’t have to…to _fixate_ on this,” Gerard says, and Frank can tell by the face he pulls that he doesn’t like the word he chose, “it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I _hurt_ someone.”

“So have I, so has Mikey, and Pete, and Patrick; it doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“But I didn’t _mean_ to,” Frank says.

“Exactly! It wasn’t your fault.”

“But it’s not…you don’t get it, Gee, I-” Frank says, pausing and closing his eyes, and Gerard can just about make out the deep frown between his eyebrows, “I’m _terrified_ to go to sleep, to even close my eyes, because what if it happens again? It wasn’t _me_ , I wasn’t even aware of what I was doing and I didn’t even remember until I heard you and Mikey talking. I could hurt anyone around me without even knowing it. I could hurt _you_.”

“I don’t think-”

“Patrick said he tried to attack Pete when he was first turned, so I could.”

Gerard sighs, “I needed advice. From Pete,” he says, finally answering Frank’s question.

“About what? Dealing with me?”

“No, not-” Gerard sighs again, finding Frank’s hand in the darkness and wrapping both of his around it, “ _helping_ you, Frank.”

“Why, cause I can’t stay the way I am now?” Frank asks, suddenly getting defensive, and he’s not sure why, because it’s stupid and he knows that’s not what Gerard’s saying, but he feels delirious from the lack of sleep and the whole newly-turned vampire thing is still fucking with his head.

“No, you can’t, cause you won’t even leave the fucking apartment and don’t trust yourself to do anything!” Gerard says, “I want-” he tries continue, pausing and staring at Frank’s and his hands, “I hate seeing you like this, I want you to be okay.”

“I know, sorry, I’m just- I don’t know, really. What did Pete say?”

“He thinks I should let you drink from me. Apparently it helped Patrick.”

“You don’t sound so sure about it.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m not sure how I feel about it really, but if you think it’ll work then I’m up for it.”

“Do you think it would work?”

“I don’t know, maybe. I have no idea how this shit works. It couldn’t do any harm.”

“What if I hurt you though? What if I go too far?” Frank asks, already feeling the sense of déjà vu before Gerard even mentions it.

“Now you know how I felt,” Gerard says, and Frank can see his smile in the darkness.

“But seriously,” Frank says, “you’ve been a vampire hundreds of years and you almost lost control once. I’ve barely been one _days_.”

“That was when you were human, though. It’ll be easier, trust me.”

Frank bites his lip, frowning and actually considering it, “Will it actually help?”

“I hope so.”

“Promise me you’d, like, punch me in the face if I didn’t stop?”

Gerard laughs, just a little breathy huff, and Frank feels the heat of it on his face; he’s not sure when they got closer, but they did. “I promise.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Gerard,” Frank says at some point around sunrise, feeling jumpy and twitchy and weird, “Gee.”

“Hmm?” Gerard mumbles, and Frank’s pretty sure he isn’t even actually awake, so he just hooks one leg over his hips, grabbing Gerard’s shoulders and kissing him harshly until he feels Gerard shifting under him. “Huh- wha-” Gerard starts, frowning up at Frank for a second before he processes what’s happening, “not that this isn’t, like, an awesome way to wake up,” he says, “but it’s like…5am? 6am? I don’t know, early as fuck.”

“Can we…I don’t know, I want to…” Frank says, and of course now’s the time he feels fucking awkward about it, “I feel like I’m fucking crawling out of my skin and losing my mind, and I wanna try it.”

“Try what?”

Frank sighs, “Fuck, I wanna be a fucking vampire and suck your fucking blood, Gerard Way.”

“Oh!” Gerard says, and Frank can kind of see his eyes go wide in realisation, “oh, yeah, you’re sure?”

“Now I am, yeah,” Frank says, “but if I…don’t be afraid to hurt me if I, like, don’t stop or anything.”

“It’ll be fine,” Gerard says, “you stopped before, with...”

“That’s cause Mikey fucking dragged me off.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Just don’t be like ‘oh I don’t wanna hurt you’ if I’m about to like fucking kill you okay?”

Gerard opens his mouth, like he’s gonna start some argument about how there’s not even a possibility of that occurring, which is complete bullshit and Gerard must know it’s bullshit because he closes his mouth again, sighing. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Frank repeats, feeling weirdly nervous and his brain decides to chuck the memory of when he first had sex at him, which, okay, he kind of understands because there’s the weird mix of excitement and ‘I really wanna do this’ combined with the nerves and fear of ‘I really don’t wanna hurt them’, except then he also kind of remembers _other_ first times he had sex, which is _really_ weird because his brain has so many memories now of so many firsts and so many lasts of just about everything. “I wish my brain would shut up,” Frank mumbles, kissing Gerard quickly to help ease his nerves.

“You’re telling me,” Gerard says, laughing gently, except he goes quiet all of a sudden when Frank start kissing down his jaw, stopping on his neck and just kind of licking and kissing at the skin there, before he sinks his teeth in. It’s weird, when he’s actually aware of what he’s doing, because it seems so _easy_. One minute he’s just kissing the bare skin of Gerard’s throat, and then all it takes it a bite and then his blood’s dripping out, wetting Frank’s lips. Before he even tastes it, he goes back up to Gerard’s lips, not caring about the blood probably dripping over Gerard’s neck and the bed, kissing him deeply, blood mingling between them.

“I love you,” Frank whispers against Gerard’s lips, wanting to just kiss him all over, because Frank’s been a bitch the last few days and just retreated into himself and he hardly even let Gerard speak to him, let alone touch him, and now he just wants to make up for the lost time, except the residual taste of Gerard’s blood in his mouth is too tempting for him to do anything but go back to his neck, almost kissing over the two puncture wounds there, letting the blood fill his mouth. Everything starts to fade away and its all just overtaken with the feeling of it; it’s nicer, somehow, than when he drank from that woman. Even though it doesn’t have the relief of _real_ blood, there also isn’t that desperation and just fucking insane _thirst_ , so he can just completely lose himself in it.

“Frank,” he hears a voice from miles away, and he doesn’t even know if he’s been here for a second or an hour, “Frank…too much.”

There’s the distinct feeling in the back of Frank’s mind that he should be _listening_ to this voice, but it just gets overridden by the fact that that means he’d have to pull away and stop, so he ignores it, gripping tighter onto whatever it is his hand’s wrapped around.

“Frank…” Gerard says again, his voice kind of is clearer now, loud in Frank’s head, his hands steady against his chest, pushing up gently. “Frank, you’re…stop.”

Frank just hums against Gerard’s neck, not even hearing what he’s saying, completely wrapped up in just the _taste_ and _feel_ of it all.

“Frank, seriously,” Gerard says, and then he really shoves at Frank, making him kind of stumble back, keeping upright on the bed and feeling a bubble of anger and _what the fuck_ , until everything kind of…clears, and he actually sees and takes in everything in front of him. Which just happens to be Gerard, still laying on his back, his t-shirt a little bloody at the collar, his eyes wide and _scared_ , his chest heaving with his breaths and a red mark on his arm that looks like Frank’s fucking _handprint_ , jesus christ.

“Oh, shit,” Frank gasps, feeling tears well up in his eyes even though Gerard’s still _there_ , right in front of him, alive and breathing, but the fear in his eyes makes him want to throw up and maybe jump out a window, “shit, shit, shit,” Frank repeats, shifting forward and brushing Gerard’s hair out his face with one hand, bringing the other one up to rest on the other side of his face. “I’m sorry,” Frank mumbles, leaning forward to kiss Gerard, just pressing their lips together, “I’m so sorry,” Frank repeats against Gerard’s mouth. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” Frank says again, planting feather-light kisses all over Gerard’s face, his tears starting to drip down, wetting Gerard’s face and turning the kisses salty.

“Frank,” Gerard says, “it’s okay, I’m fine.”

Frank tries to respond, somehow, but he doesn’t really think of what he’s going to say before he says it, so it just comes at as a cut-off groan before he drops his head against Gerard’s chest. “How do we always manage this?”

“Huh?”

“How does everything keep going fucking wrong?”

“Nothing went wrong,” Gerard says, his fingers stroking gently through the hair at the back of Frank’s hair, “you just got…caught up.”

“Yeah, and could’ve fucking killed you.”

“Déjà vu.”

“See, exactly! Shit like this always happens. Are we just fucking destined to forever end up messing things up and almost killing each other or other people?”

Gerard sighs, “Just now was because you’ve only _just_ been turned, and so was with the other woman. You’ll get used to it eventually. As for me, that was just cause it was one of the first times I’d drunk from an actual human in ages, and now you’re not human, so, problem solved. And before that I was just fucked up because you were _dead_. But you’re _not_ going to die again, so problem solved again.”

“Stop being so optimistic,” Frank mumbles, pressing his face into Gerard’s chest more before rolling to the side and clinging onto him instead, “aren’t you too old to still be optimistic?” Frank asks, kissing over the bloody mark on Gerard’s neck.

“Maybe that tells you something about how things normally work out.”

“Shittily,” Frank says, “you’ve lost the guy you love, what, like at least five times? Or more.”

“But you always come back,” Gerard reminds him, turning to face him, “that’s what matters.”

“Maybe not always.”

“Please don’t make me think-” Gerard starts, ending with an “oh, shit” instead, because Frank accidentally knocked the scabs loose with his mouth and reopened the wounds on his neck where they’d already started to scab over. He hadn’t meant to and he _should_ want to pull away and go help Gerard find a fucking plaster or something so Frank can stop fucking things up, but the second he feels the blood on his lips and tastes it on his tongue, it’s like everything else drops away again, every nerve in Frank’s body focusing on the bittersweet metallic taste flooding his mouth. He can feel Gerard shoving at him again, and the small voice at the back of his mind that’s still _him_ is yelling at him to fucking _stop_ and _move_ , and it’s not until Gerard yanks at Frank’s hair – not too harsh, because Gerard’s probably an idiot and still doesn’t want to hurt Frank even though Frank’s completely out of his mind, but harsh enough for the sharp pain to interrupt Frank’s fucking _delusion_ for long enough for him to realise what the fuck he’s doing. He shoves himself backwards, landing heavily on the floor but the pain doesn’t even reach Frank’s brain before he’s pushing himself back more, until he’s up against the wall, shaking and filled with self-loathing.

“That wasn’t your fault,” Gerard says straight away, like he cares more about how Frank’s feeling about himself rather than the blood that’s still dripping down his neck and the fact that Frank could just fucking attack him again without even being able to stop himself.

“Don’t,” Frank says when Gerard gets up, making to kneel down in front of Frank, “you’re still…”

“Oh, crap,” Gerard says, his hand going up to his neck and coming back bloody, “hang on,” he tells Frank before he leaves the room, grabbing something on the way out.

When Gerard comes back Frank still doesn’t feel any better about himself; his head feels clearer, at least, and he doesn’t feel like his brain’s going to surprise him with another attack on Gerard, but he still feels like he’s about to throw up just thinking about everything. Gerard’s wiped up all the blood, and put on a new shirt, and even put a fucking Band-Aid on his neck so he looks like a kid who somehow managed to fall over and scrape his fucking _neck_. Frank almost laughs before it makes him want to heave.

“Are you feeling better, at least?” Gerard asks, sitting on the floor next to Frank.

“When I’ve not got my fucking teeth in your neck, sure.”

“Frank…” Gerard says, and he sounds so sad that it makes Frank feel bad for feeling bad, what the fuck. “It’s gonna be okay,” he says, taking Frank’s hand, which he has to do kind of forcefully. Frank knows he must be able to see how much he’s shaking, which just makes him feel even worse, but Gerard doesn’t say anything and just wraps both of his hands around it, holding on tight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just uploaded the first chapter to a new fic so you guys should totally check that out [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7706953) and leave a comment and receive my unconditional love in return


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm such a nerd with my not-so-subtle references to mcr

Frank does, genuinely, wish he could sleep. He’s not deliberately trying to stay up just to annoy the neighbours with his guitar, but he couldn’t sleep when he and Gerard went to bed however many hours ago and as soon as he’d gone out to the living room and picked up his guitar, he’d given up completely on the hope of getting any sleep tonight. At least before sunrise.

He loses himself in the music quickly, playing some of his old songs, some of his favourite songs he taught himself years ago, some new disorganised chords and patterns that could become a song if he was willing to try. Right now, he just tries to forget everything. All the different things and worries that seem to just keep endlessly piling on top of one another. Everything just seems to dissolve away when he plays, and Frank tries to ignore the ache he feels when he realises how much he’s missed this. It feels like he’s barely even touched his guitar in forever, let alone wrote anything or played a show and he knows, now that he’s reminded himself of exactly how much he loves this and how fucking _therapeutic_ it is, that he really _really_ needs to go back to playing and making music again.

“Frank,” a voice interrupts his playing, and even though he _knows_ it’s Gerard – knows his voice and knows that no one else would be in their apartment – it still makes him jump. More than just the ‘I wasn’t expecting to hear anyone so you scared me’ and Frank wonders if his heart actually _is_ beating harder or whether it’s just some phantom sensation he can remember from when he was actually _human_. “Sorry,” Gerard says, walking forward so Frank can see him, and there goes the hope that Gerard didn’t see how on edge he is.

“Why’re you awake?” Frank asks when Gerard yawns, feeling himself smile despite himself at how young Gerard looks – old, worn batman pyjamas and bed hair sticking up in every direction.

Gerard shrugs, but the way he looks down at Frank’s guitar is explanation enough.

“Oh,” Frank says, looking down at the guitar himself, as if he wasn’t the one making noise with it the last couple of hours, “sorry.”

Gerard shrugs again, “It’s fine. How much longer are you gonna play?”

“Uh…” Frank says, “till sunrise?”

Gerard sighs, throwing his head back over-exaggeratingly, “You might still be all vampire-y and want to stay up all night but I need to _sleep_.”

“I know, sorry,” Frank says, putting his guitar down when Gerard comes to sit next to him, “I just miss playing, I feel like it’s been _forever_.”

“A lot of shit’s been happening,” Gerard says, rubbing his knuckles against Frank’s thigh and leaning into him.

“Yeah, but I miss playing _live_. That used to be all I wanted to do and now I feel like I just completely ignored that,” Frank says, sighing and pressing back into Gerard, “I want to play more shows again.”

“It’s way too early for that, Frankie,” Gerard says, stopping the movements of his hand, picking at a hole on his pyjama bottoms instead.

“I’m _okay_ , though; I can control myself now. I don’t feel like I did before, Gee.”

“Frank…” Gerard says, his voice going into ‘this is a bad idea stop disagreeing’ territory. Frank can feel his frown, intently staring at where his fingers are still picking. “You didn’t even trust yourself with me and now you wanna go out in front of a bunch of people?”

“That was when I was gonna have my _teeth_ in your _neck_. This is different, I won’t be anywhere near them.”

“You’ll be close enough,” Gerard says, still frowning and worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Stop worrying,” Frank says, like a hypocrite.

“Frank, you don’t know what it’s like. You haven’t even tried just seeing someone we know yet, if you go into a crowded room of strangers all _filled_ with adrenaline, it’s not gonna be easy.”

“You’ve kept _saying that_. Before you turned me it was just ‘you don’t know what it’s like’ and it’s still made no fucking difference,” Frank says, the readiness to argue his point melting away as soon as Gerard looks up at him, eyebrows drawn together and eyes wide and sad. “Ger-”

“No, sorry, I’m just-” he sighs, dropping his head against Frank’s shoulder, “I’m so fed up with fighting,” he says, slightly muffled where his mouth’s pressed against Frank.

Frank sighs too, hating himself now for even being ready to argue, “Me too.”

“Can we just wait, a little bit?” Gerard asks, looking up again, “See Joe and Andy or some of your friends and see how you are and then…”

Frank sighs, again, “I guess,” he says. He knows he can wait, and he knows Gerard’s probably right, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s just itching to go and play a show this second. “You should get some sleep,” Frank tells Gerard, watching him yawn again.

“ _You_ should get some sleep.”

Frank rolls his eyes, “I can’t sleep, I’m gonna be tired tomorrow whatever. You should at least take the _chance_ to not be tired tomorrow.”

“Shut up, I’m not going back to bed till you do,” Gerard says, settling down further in his spot as if to emphasise his point and interlacing his fingers with Frank’s, as if that stops him from being able to leave.

Frank rolls his eyes again, but doesn’t say anything, happy for the company even if he knows Gerard will be most likely asleep again in a manner of minutes.

“Sometimes I wish we were normal,” Frank says, after a while of silence.

“What do you mean?” Gerard asks, surprising Frank that he’s still awake, squeezing Frank’s hand.

“No vampirism. No evil vampires wanting to kill us both. No, I don’t know, fucking reincarnation. Just an unashamedly mundane relationship.”

“Dude, we were never gonna be mundane,” Gerard says, then, after a beat, “I wouldn’t wish away the amount of time I’ve got to spend with you, even if it hasn’t been my whole life.”

Frank hums in agreement, stroking his thumb over Gerard’s.

“I _do_ wish I hadn’t had to see you die so many times, though,” Gerard adds, “maybe mundane would’ve been nice.”

“I wonder what our lives would be like if we _were_ just some normal couple.”

“You’d be in some famous band,” Gerard says, then makes a face like he thinks he’s stopping Frank from being famous, and Frank practically jumps to stop that train of thought before it gets Gerard thinking anything else stupid.

“I’d never want to be in a famous band, though. Not unless the band was so undeniably awesome that it _had_ to be famous.”

“You mean if it had me in it?” Gerard asks, giggling before Frank can even roll his eyes.

“Obviously,” Frank says, voice dripping with so much sarcasm that Gerard _has_ to hit him, gently, on the knee.

“I’m glad things are the way they are,” Gerard says, squeezing Frank’s hand again, “as long as I never have to see you die again.”

“Never again,” Frank agrees.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've just realised we're already over halfway through this fic and I'm not sure I'm ready to deal with that. Also, welcome Brendon.

“Hey,” Gerard says, and Frank feels a gentle hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake, “Frankie,” he says, watching as Frank blinks open blurry eyes, confused to find himself in the living room.

“Did we sleep here all night?” Frank asks, pushing himself further upright.

“Well, hardly night. Mostly day.”

“All day?”

“Well, it’s, like, midday,” Gerard shrugs, sitting down on the coffee table, facing Frank.

“Mmm,” Frank groans, wishing he could still be asleep, “what is it?”

“Pete just called,” Gerard says, “there’s some guy he wants us to meet.”

“What? Why?”

“He just showed up at Pete’s door. Said he wanted to help us and shit. Apparently he was kidnapped or something by those assholes a couple years back and decided to keep him instead of kill him.”

“Is he a vampire?” Gerard nods, and an uneasy feeling settles in Frank stomach. “I don’t wanna deal with one of them. At all.”

“I know,” Gerard says, making a face that tells Frank he’s just as unhappy about this as he is, “but Pete seems to think he’s a good guy. He wasn’t part of that shit willingly, and _apparently_ once they started trying to get him involved in all their horrible shit he wanted to leave, but, y’know, didn’t wanna die. He might be the only chance we have now to kill these fuckers once and for all.”

Frank sighs, “This really doesn’t feel like a good idea.”

“I know,” Gerard repeats, watching Frank carefully, like he’s about to break or something.

“What if it’s a trap?”

“It could be,” Gerard sighs, “but it doesn’t make sense that they’d go to Pete instead of us.”

“Well, if Pete’s more trusting they could get us all together, then wipe _us_ the fuck out.”

“It’ll be fine,” Gerard says, really not sounding very reassuring and doing nothing to dislodge the unsettled feeling in Frank’s stomach, “we can totally handle them.”

“Yeah,” Frank says, unsure, and Gerard’s still looking at him somewhat expectantly, his hair not having changed much since the night before, but now he’s changed his pyjama pants for jeans – but not replaced the top, of _course_ – “what, does he want us to come now?”

“Yeah,” Gerard says, “is that okay?”

“Uh, I need to get dressed.”

“That’ll take, like, two seconds.”

“I haven’t showered since yesterday,” Frank says, hoping Gerard isn’t about to tell him how long it’s been since he showered, because that isn’t something he needs to know.

“So?” Gerard says, and Frank rolls his eyes. After a couple of hundred years you’d think he’d have started to develop at least _some_ kind of better hygiene, but Frank’s still waiting on it.

“Give me, like, twenty minutes.”

Gerard sighs, “Hurry up.”

 

 

By the time Frank’s finished in the shower and dressed to go, Gerard’s definitely had more than one coffee judging by how he’s more than a little twitchy. He talks for most of the car ride over to Pete’s, trying to distract Frank from his worrying, but he keeps interspersing it with reassurances that it’ll be okay, which doesn’t do anything to help the distracting, but by the time they arrive at Pete’s he feels a bit better, at least enough to not tell Gerard to turn around again.

“So, this is Brendon,” Pete says when he lets them into his apartment, gesturing vaguely towards the guy behind him.

“Ger-” Frank chokes, his vision swimming and he’s faintly aware of his hands shaking as he twists them into the back of Gerard’s shirt, his stomach swooping because that’s one of _them_ , one that he _knows_. Frank’s going to throw up. He knows that face, remembers it looming over him as he was kicked to the ground and beaten to a pulp. He wasn’t one of the vampires actually _taking part_ in the very-nearly-murder, but he watched the whole thing, watched as Frank coughed blood onto the ground and was turned black and blue.

“What’s wrong?” Gerard asks, half turning, resting one of his hands on Frank’s wrist. He must notice how pale Frank’s gone (paler than he normally is now, anyway), because his eyes fill with worry. “Frank, what is it?”

“That’s- that’s one of them,” Frank stutters, “that was there when I…when they…”

Gerard frowns for a moment more, before his face clears, “No,” he says, barely above a whisper, dropping Frank’s wrist, walking straight over to the other guy and punching him square in the face, hard enough to knock him backwards, grasping at his face.

“What the fuck-” Brendon says, as Pete grabs Gerard before he can do anything else.

“You fucking _asshole_ , what are doing here?” Gerard says, struggling against Pete, “let me fucking _go_ , Pete.”

“So you can kill the only chance we have at wiping out the worst group of vampires in the country? No thanks.”

“I don’t want his fucking help, I want to see him _dead_ ,” Gerard says, turning round in Pete’s grip, “what would you do if someone threatened to kill Patrick, broke his fucking ribs, left him black and blue and having nightmares for _weeks_ after?”

“What-” the guy mumbles, a hand still clutching at his face, and Frank feels sick when Gerard spins around, looking ready to kill the guy again.

“Gerard-” Frank mutters, wishing he’d just come back so Frank had some kind of support and comfort to stop him from collapsing. It’s like all his nightmares have come flooding back to him in a matter of seconds.

Except, now Brendon is looking directly at Frank and his ears are ringing. It feels far too much like he’s back there on that night, on the hard ground outside the supermarket. “Oh, shit,” Brendon says, recognition flashing in his eyes, “I wasn’t- I didn’t- I didn’t touch him.”

“So, what?” Gerard asks, his voice filled with venom, “You thought you’d just watch and provide the verbal threats and nightmare material?”

“Gerard, please,” Frank says, and he finally looks up at him, coming back over the second he sees how pale Frank is, shaking and unsteady on his legs.

“Hey,” Gerard says, voice soft again, supporting Frank, “are you okay?”

“No,” Frank replies, “can we sit?”

“Sure,” Gerard says, helping Frank over to the sofa, sitting down next to Patrick when he shuffles over.

“Listen,” Brendon says, and Gerard’s all but murdering him with his eyes, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be there, or want any of them to do that. I wish I could’ve helped and-”

“Then why didn’t you?” Gerard interrupts, hand tightening on Frank’s.

“I didn’t have any choice in all of that shit. They took me when I was barely a kid and decided they wanted to keep me,” Brendon says, “if I’d tried to do anything, they’d have killed me.”

“They could’ve killed _Frank_.”

“They weren’t going to,” he rushes, “I made sure they weren’t going to. I couldn’t even watch after a while.”

“Oh, you couldn’t _watch_?” Gerard asks, voice rising in pitch, “how do think it felt for Frank, having to fucking endure it?”

“Gee,” Frank whispers, his voice barely making a sound. He’s not happy at this guy being here, but he really wishes Gerard would calm down, stop accusing him of everything; all Frank wants to do is forget it happened.

“I’m sorry, really. I wish I could’ve stopped it.”

“Yeah, that’s fu-”

“Gerard,” Frank says, louder this time, and Gerard’s head snaps towards him, “please, I don’t want to think about this.”

Gerard frowns at Frank, and he looks torn for a moment before he sighs, “Okay,” he sighs again, “okay, Frankie. Sorry,” he whispers, “Don’t think this means I forgive you,” he says louder, still glaring at Brendon.

“I’m actually, genuinely, sorry,” Brendon says, “I wanna help you kill these dickheads.”

“Don’t they know you’ve, I don’t know, abandoned them or whatever, now, though?” Andy asks, before Gerard can start saying anything else.

“Well, kinda,” Brendon says, “but I know them. I know how they work and shit.”

“Won’t they come and try kill you?”

“He’s gonna stay here for a little bit,” Pete says, “I can make sure they don’t come here and try any shit. He might have to stay somewhere else after a bit,” he looks over briefly at Gerard, hardly enough to notice, “it’d be harder to protect him if they knew where he was.”

“And what makes you think he deserves protecting?” Gerard asks, and Frank tightens his grip on Gerard’s hand, _really_ not wanting to get into this.

“Gerard,” Frank says, only loud enough for him to hear, “can we go home?”

“Are you sure?” Gerard asks, ignoring as everyone else continues in conversation.

“Yeah,” Frank says, “I mean- yeah, I just wanna go home.”

“Okay,” Gerard says, “are you sure you’re okay?”

“No,” Frank says, and Gerard makes a concerned face but doesn’t say anything, going over to Pete and saying something quietly and giving Brendon another quick glare before he and Frank go out again.

They’re both quiet the entire car ride, this time, and Gerard keeps glancing over at Frank. Frank’s tempted to tell him to stop worrying, but he really doesn’t want to start talking about any of it.

“Are you okay?” Gerard asks again when they shut the apartment door behind them.

“No,” Frank tells him, again.

“Do you wanna talk?”

“Not really,” Frank says, taking a deep breath, “can we just, I don’t know, sit for a bit?”

Gerard frowns, again, and Frank really hopes he’s not gonna start trying to talk about it anyway, but he just sighs and sits down, wrapping his arms around Frank.


End file.
